


Patch Job

by AshSeven



Series: Unconfused [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Otabek Altin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Demisexual Yuri Plisetsky, Leaked Nudes, M/M, Omega Yuri Plisetsky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-04-30 20:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14505159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshSeven/pseuds/AshSeven
Summary: With his world shaken after his ex leaked his nudes, Otabek goes to Saint Petersburg for a much needed escape. But trying to convince himself that everything is alright once again, proves harder than he thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Huge shout out to [TehLastUnicron](https://tehlastunicron.tumblr.com/) who lets me scream headcanons at her all day long :)  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
>   
> Content warnings:  
> \- Sexual content  
> \- Recreational drug use (human and cat lol)

Exhausted wasn’t the right word. Otabek could barely move his feet as he shuffled into Lilia’s apartment, wishing that he could absorb some of Yuri’s endless energy. Yuri was bouncing all over the place, dancing around on the balls of his feet as he flitted around him. He should have been more excited to see his boyfriend after so long, but all he really wanted was a shower and to sleep for ten hours. He threw himself onto the couch, sighing in relief and letting his eyes fall shut. Lilia had the scratchiest, and most uncomfortable throw cushions - she and his mom would get along perfectly - but he didn’t even care that a zipper was stabbing him in the side.

“Hey, so uh, we don’t really have any food,” Yuri said, suddenly appearing behind him and running his fingers through his hair. Otabek sighed through his nose, tilting his head to silently ask for a massage. “I was supposed to cook, but I ended up cleaning and… we can just order something instead.”

“Sure.”

Yuri huffed, lightly grazing his nails along his scalp. “Sorry, ugh, everything was so rushed, and Lilia wasn't even here to help.”

Yeah, his trip had been rushed. He’d only decided on it this morning, but he had to leave Almaty for a while. Yuri might have been joking when he had told him to come, but he’d booked a ticket and packed his bags in less than three hours anyway.

“You _cleaned_ for me?” He asked, cracking an eye open, and tilting his head back to smirk at Yuri. He was still dressed in a grey leotard with sweatpants and a jacket hurriedly pulled over. He had also noticed dance tights peeking from between the top of his sneakers and hem of his pants.

Yuri leaned over the couch, grinning upside-down, and pressed a light kiss right between Otabek’s eyebrows. “Just the bathroom; don’t get ahead of yourself, Altin.”

Otabek scoffed softly; his eyelids felt like lead, but he still needed to shower before he even thought about sleep. But just sitting here, with Yuri massaging his head was good too.

“What do you feel like?” Yuri asked.

“Like I got run over by a bus.”

“I meant to eat.”

“Anything.”

Yuri patted his cheek, hard, but not hard enough to hurt.

The shower was glorious; he had to smile at how Yuri had arranged all his soaps and shampoos, and the faint, chemical scent of bathroom cleaner. Hot water against plane-stiffened muscles was amazing, and he took a minute to just stand under the spray, letting his chin touch his chest. And it was just standing there that all the long days and restless nights of the past few months caught up with him. Days stuck in a courtroom, or in his lawyer’s office going over files, dodging the paparazzi, and meeting with his sponsors and on top of that, he’d been unable to sleep, his mind restless even as his body begged for a break. He watched the water swirl around his feet and into the drain, even as it dripped from his hair and stung his eyes, treatening to wash out his contacts.

“I was about to check on you.” Yuri offered a small smile when Otabek exited the bathroom. “Thought you fell asleep in there.” He was curled up on the couch with Potya on his lap, and freshly showered too; his hair hung on either side of his head in two damp braids.

He sighed, plopping himself down next to him and reaching across to stroke Potya. “Just thinking.”

Yuri snuggled against his side and he raised an arm, resting it around his shoulders. “Yeah, but you’re done with all that shit now, right? You can just rest now.”

Otabek sighed deeply. The final court date had been just three days ago, and technically everything was done, but he was still big news in Almaty and the pictures had resurfaced once the media had found out that the date for the case had been set. He had never had to hire a bodyguard before then either.

“Yeah.” He should rest; he needed to. Yuri pressed a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw as Potya grumbled in annoyance when he jostled her. He scratched the incredibly soft fur behind her ear to quieten her.

“Okay, so food and bed for you?” Yuri asked softly.

“Yeah. What did you order?”

“A few things from like one of the three places Lilia lets me eat at.” Otabek scoffed. “Shut up. I take my career seriously, you know.”

“I know.” He kept on forgetting there were two versions of Yuri. One that would eat anything in front of him, and the other that would scream at fat, sugar, and carbs.

“I got us wild rice, cooked spinach salad with chickpeas and cranberries, and salmon with lemon dressing.”

Otabek nodded. Yeah, his on-season diet was impeccable. But when he looked across at his lean thigh with a defined line of muscle down the side, he really did appreciate it. They moved to the island to eat, Yuri still walking with a light bounce in his step, and they sat close enough together that their arms brushed as they ate.

“So, I have to go into the studio at like six tomorrow, then I’m Yakov’s for the day. I mean, you can tag along or hide out here. Lilia said I could give you a spare key and the buzzer code if you wanted to do your own thing.”

Otabek shrugged; he really didn’t have a plan. He didn’t even know how long he would end up staying in Saint Petersburg. He knew he should try to train, or at least go to the gym - Lilia’s apartment complex had a pretty good one in the basement, but he’d see how he felt tomorrow.

Yuri nudged him with his shoulder. “Beka, it’s gonna be okay. You’re done an over with that asshole, and he got everything he deserved.”

He tried to smile, but ended up staring into his rice with his jaw clenched, until Potya let out a long, frustrated meow and stretched up to knead his calf, already licking her lips.

“You already ate,” Yuri scolded her, peering over Otabek’s lap.

“Can I give her some fish?” Otabek asked, smiling as he looked down at her.

“No, she knows she doesn’t get food from the table. She’s only trying cause you’re new.”

Otabek shrugged. “Sorry, Princess.” He reached down to scratch under her chin. She sniffed his hand hopefully. “Daddy said no.”

He had tumbled into Yuri’s bed not much later, his limbs falling like sacks of potatoes. Even his head felt heavy and cloudy. He yawned, tugging a pillow towards him and wrinkled his nose, cracking his an eye back open when his knuckles hit a foil wrapper. The crinkling sound made his skin crawl. Why, Yuri?

“When last have you changed your sheets?” he grumbled, fishing out the protein bar wrapper and tossing it in the direction of the trash can. It fluttered to the floor in a silver blur, and if he wasn’t so tired he would have gotten up and disposed of it _properly_.

Yuri squirmed from his side of the bed. “It’s not like they smell.” They smelt of him, strongly so, but not in a bad way; his natural scent was not something Otabek would ever find unappealing. “Like two days ago, I think.”

Otabek sighed, pressing his face against the pillow. “You need to stop eating in bed.”

Yuri scoffed, snuggling down under the comforter and forcing one of his feet between Otabek’s calves. Otabek smiled raising an arm to allow him to snuggle against his chest. Yuri tucked himself under his chin, leaving Otabek to press a soft, slow kiss to the crown of his head.

“I missed you.” Yuri mumbled, his words breathing across Otabek’s neck.

He lazily smoothed his hand up and down Yuri’s spine, letting his eyes fall shut again. “I missed you too.”

Their plans to spend time together at the Grand Prix Final had fallen apart. The media was ravenous and Otabek’s knee was in poor shape. Both Tair and Gennadiy had advised him to take some time off to recuperate both mentally and physically. Even if he couldn't admit it aloud, he was in no shape to compete at the Grand Prix. Yuri had tired not to sound disappointed when Otabek had broken the news to him, but Otabek knew better. Either way, it had been months since they had seen each other in person. He tightened his arms around Yuri’s waist, breathing in deeply. The smell of his shampoo was refreshing and familiar.

“How…” Yuri swallowed, Otabek felt his back move. “How are you, though. I mean with all-”

“I’m okay.” He opened his eyes again to glare at the wall.

“Stop lying.”

“No, I’m… not lying. I…” he sighed. “I’m better now that it’s done.”

“Beka-”

“Really. But I… I just needed to get away from Almaty. There’s just too much going on-”

“I know _that_ part.” Yuri uncurled himself, and smoothed his palm across Otabek’s cheek. “I mean, like…” he ended in a huff.

Otabek turned his head, pressing his lips to the centre of his palm. He regretted taking out his contacts, because Yuri’s face was a blur. He wrapped his hand around his wrist, smoothing his index finger over the bone. “I’m feeling better.” He felt, rather than heard, Yuri sigh. “We can talk later, I just… not tonight.”

“Okay, yeah. Sorry, you’re exhausted.”

He hummed, tugging Yuri back against him. He let his eyes fall shut, giving into the stiff, tired soreness in his muscles. Yuri was still moving around, restless as usual, but Otabek was falling deeper and deeper into the mattress. The last thing he remembered was Yuri working at a knot at the back of his neck and the pillow he had pressed his face against smelt strongly of his natural scent. He didn’t even wake up when Yuri got out of bed that morning. What woke him up was a furry paw pressed to his nose as Potya walked across his face. He scowled in her direction, but he could be too sure, because Yuri had gotten black and white tiger-striped sheets, fluffy throw pillows to match. He rolled over, pressing his face into the pillow and inhaling until his lungs hurt.

But, he had lied, last night to Yuri; he wasn’t okay.

Rolling onto his back, he threw his hand over his face and pressed his knuckles against his closed eyes. He still felt like weights were tied to his limbs and something was sitting on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He had expected to feel better once he had left Almaty, but he knew now that the exhaustion wasn’t from the flight. He should have felt better, though. He was through with all the court drama, done with all the meetings and PR campaigns; he should have been relieved. But, his stomach was still tight and refused to go back to normal, the back of his neck itched, and everything just felt _grey_.

Even when Yuri had met him at the airport, his hug and kiss hadn’t even felt real. Scoffing at himself, he reached over to the nightstand for his glasses and phone. His mother had texted and called him last night and he sighed heavily, tapping open the app to answer her. A text would had to suffice; he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Yuri had also messaged him, telling him where all the breakfast food was, and that he’d left his keys on the counter incase he wanted to go out. He also had some free time for lunch, if he wanted to get something to eat together.

Otabek hesitated on that one. He hadn’t seen Yuri in months, he should have been jumping at the idea of a lunch date, but he just felt tired. So. Fucking. Tired. He set his phone on the mattress, sinking down until he was on his back again. The message went unanswered as he stared up at the ceiling, letting the weight of reality slowly seep into his bones.

A low purring noise had Otabek jolting awake. When had he even fallen asleep? He blinked, pushing his glasses up his nose, to find Potya sitting on his chest, her tail swishing back and forth behind her. Otabek sighed, scratching her under her chin.

“Yeah, I know I’ve been in bed for too long,” he grumbled, watching as her ear twitched towards him.

Yuri’s curtains did a good job of blocking out light, but he could tell that it was late in the day. Yeah, he picked up his phone to check the time. Two. he sighed heavily, pushing his glasses out of the way to pinch his nose. He really needed to get out of bed, to shower at least, and unpack his bags. But as he looked down his nose at Potya who had curled up on his chest, watching him with huge, sky-blue eyes, he knew he wasn’t getting up soon. He took a picture of her and sent it to Yuri as an apology for missing lunch.

Yuri texted back after a short moment. 

Yura:  
You’re only now waking up?  
Fuck you must have really been exhausted.

Slight guilt gnawed at Otabek’s lungs.

Me:  
Yeah. Didn’t realise how tired I was, sorry about lunch.

Yura:  
It’s fine.  
You’re here to rest, right?

Otabek sighed, trying to smile but even those muscles were tired.

Me:  
I guess. But we’ll get lunch.  
Tomorrow

Yura:  
Can’t tomorrow  
One of Lilia’s assistants is helping me and the only spare time she has is during lunch.

His stomach tightened. He should have just gotten his ass out of bed to go meet his boyfriend.

Me:  
We can figure it out when you come home tonight then

Yura:  
Yeah  
Oh and you can just kick Potya out of the room if she gets too annoying

Me:  
I would never

Yura:  
You say that now

The smile finally broke through and he scratched behind Potya’s ears. She hadn’t been that troublesome yet. She butted her head against his palm, purring again. Otabek’s phone vibrated nearly blending in with her.

Yura:  
Got to go, Yakov is yelling

The ellipses danced for a while at the bottom of the screen as Yuri typed and stopped then started again.

Yura:  
Love you  
See you tonight

Me:  
Yeah  
Love you too

He sighed again, something swirling inside his stomach and chest.

“Okay, Potya,” he mumbled, picking her up so he could sit upright. “Time to get up.”

 

“I brought dinner!” Yuri yelled, through the front door and kicked it. The knocking was way too low for him to have used his hand.

Otabek scrambled from the couch to unlock the door, just remembering that he’d left his keys with him. “Hey,” he answered, opening the door. Yuri’s hair was windswept from the mid-February winds and he was nearly hunched over from the weight of his gym bags. He still beamed at Otabek, bending for a kiss.

“Hey,” he pecked him gently on the lips, before shoving his way inside. Otabek blinked, snapping to attention and reaching out for the bags of food he was also carrying. “How was your day?”

“Uh,” He shrugged, setting the plastic bag on the island and turning to watch Yuri kick off his sneakers. “It was quiet.”

Yuri smiled. “That’s good, right?”

He hesitated. “Yeah.”

Yuri had been walking on the balls of his feet, bouncing with each step to the kitchen, froze and narrowed his eyes. “Beka-”

“I needed quiet.” He tried to fix it. “Just to clear my head a little.”

Yuri huffed closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around Otabek’s waist. “Hey,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to his forehead. “I know I already asked last night, but are you okay-”

“Yes, Yura. I’m fine.” He rested his palms to Yuri’s hips, drumming his fingers against the bone. “But, please, go shower before you hug me. You stink.”

Yuri scoffed, pulling away. “I’ve been training all day!”

“I know and you stink.”

He rolled his eyes, then gasped softly and dropped to the floor. “And you, baby?” Potya was purring, winding around his ankles as he stroked her back. “I hope you were good for Beka.”

Otabek chuckled, leaning against the corner of the island.  “She was good company. Except when she walked across my face to wake me up.”

Yuri snorted and looked up at Otabek with laughing eyes. “That’s my girl.”

 

The next two days weren’t any better. He wasn’t able to fall asleep that night, tossing and turning over every so often as Yuri snored light next to him. He was too antsy to fall into a deep sleep, but too exhausted to stay fully awake and spent the entire night in a sort of half-sleep, aware of everything around him, but unable to move. Like he was in a coma.

Yuri woke up at the crack of dawn on the days he went to the ballet studio before practice at the rink. He wiggled soundlessly out of bed after giving Otabek a soft peck on the temple. Otabek would wake himself up enough to wish him a good day, but would fall back asleep when he heard the front door shut.

The hours passed in a slow haze and he moved between Yuri’s bed and the couch with a book in hand and stared at the words without seeing them. His skin was itching and he needed to move around or he was positive that he’d go insane, but at the same time he didn’t have the energy to get off the couch. He ended up scrolling through all his unread messages on the third day. Iska had been keeping him updated on everything back home, but he hadn’t opened their chat in days. The others were trying to be supportive as well, but he couldn’t bring himself to open their messages either. His mother had been religiously sending him good morning and good night messages, and checking up on his a few times during the day. His replies were embarrassingly sparse too.

He tapped out of the message app, sighing heavily. Yeah, he knew he was being an ass. Everyone cared about him so much, and were trying their best to help and he didn’t want to talk to a single one of them.

His stomach clenched in guilt and he opened up his contact page and tapped on his mother’s number. She answered almost immediately and he dragged his hand down his face, after setting his glasses on the side table.

“Hi, Ma,” he mumbled, his throat already tightening. “Are you busy?”

“Never too busy for you, sweetheart. How’s Saint Petersburg?”

He took a deep breath, tucking his legs underneath him and leaning against the armrest of the couch. “I still don’t feel… good.”

She sighed softly. “That will come with time, _zhanym_. What’s important is that you can move forward and put all this behind you.”

He huffed. How was that supposed to help him?

“I know you, Beka, you think about the past too much.” He grumbled a response. “Have you been eating well? I hope you’re not keeping yourself locked up in the apartment either. You need fresh air.”

“Ma,” he sighed, looking down at his pyjama pants.

“Okay?”

“Yes, _Anam_.”

“Good.” He could hear her smile. “How’s Yuri?”

Otabek swallowed, for some reason his gut unclenched and his breath came easier. “Yuri’s fine. He’s usually gone all day for training-”

“You should go with him.”

“My knee, Ma-”

“You don’t have to skate.” She sighed heavily. “Just get out and do something, talk to people. It will help.”

He somehow doubted that. “Yeah, tomorrow maybe.”

“You should video call us sometime. Your father would like that.”

“ _Dad_?”

She chuckled softly. “We haven’t seen Yuri in a while.”

His cheeks heated. “I’ll ask him.”

“Don’t _forget_.” He rolled his eyes. “And, _zhanym_ , keep your head up. Remember to use the time to relax, because once you come back home, everything is going to start over, and I know with your training you won’t have a moment to yourself. ”

“Yes, Ma.”

“I love you, Bekem.”

A small smile stretched a corner of his mouth. “Love you too, Mama.”

“And call more! Oh Allah, Otabek, sometimes I forget the sound of your voice.” He chuckled softly, listening to her go on about how her week had been. When he’d come back from America years ago, she’d spend hours with him gossiping about anyone and anything, it should have been annoying, but he had liked it. Leaning against the back of the couch, he breathed out easily; he should have called sooner.

Relax, Otabek breathed out heavily once he’d hung up. He hadn’t done anything at all for the past three days, but his entire body was still tense and heavy. Everything was wound up so tightly that there was a dull pain behind his eyes. Slipping back on his glasses, he reopened the messaging app and scrolled all the way down to a week old message thread.

Me:  
Hey, this is kind of a weird question

He paused, maybe he should have started with a ‘hello, what’s up?’ He ground his teeth together hoping Mila wouldn’t be too offended. It took her a while to respond. Long enough for him to get up, fish out a box of granola from the cupboard and take a quick shower, hoping that it would help him to wake up fully. His lock screen was full of message notifications when he got back.

Mila Babicheva:  
Hey!  
What’s up?  
Heard you’re in Piter now

He sighed shortly, tapping out a reply.

Me:  
Yeah  
I’m gonna be here for a while

Mila Babicheva:  
That’s great! We’ll have to meet up on one of my off days :)  
So, what was it you needed?

He held his breath, but then shook his head. He was positive that Yuri had told her almost everything about him anyway. And Mila was usually cool about most things.

Me:  
Do you know where I can get any edibles?  
Like…  
Brownies or something?

Wait should he clarify about the weed part? He was about to type out more, but Mila was already answering.

Mila Babicheva:  
Hmmm  
I don’t know anywhere personally but I can ask around.  
Give me a few minutes :)

Me:  
Thanks

Mila Babicheva:  
No problem  
Hope you feel better soon, tho

Feel better soon? He stared at the message. He wasn’t sick; had Yuri told her something?

Me:  
Feel better?

Mila Babicheva:  
Oh, Yuri said you were still kinda depressed

Depressed? He sighed; of course Yuri was worried about him. Of course he would have noticed that something was off.

Me:  
I just needed a break.  
It’s not a big deal  
Don’t worry about me.

She took a few minutes to reply.

Mila Babicheva:  
I can only imagine  
You deserve a fucking break

She typed for another while before sending through a location. He tapped it open  and squinted at his screen, a bakery?

Mila Babicheva:  
This place may be a bit pricey, but I was told that it’s worth it  
Also you’ll have to ask for the edibles since they don’t really want word to get out that they sell them

Okay, that sounded slightly sketchy, but he wouldn’t doubt Mila.

Me:  
Thanks

Mila Babicheva:  
No problem!  
Like I said, you fucking deserve it

He smiled bitterly at the screen. Yeah, he deserved it.

It was weird to think that this was the first time he’d put on jeans in three days. He was turning into a mess; his mom had been right. But he was going out now. He ground his teeth together as he buckled his belt and pulled a sweater over his head. He wrapped his scarf around his neck and then spent nearly five minutes looking for his coat, before he remembered that it was hanging on the coat rack by the door. Rolling his eyes at himself, he made sure that he had the keys Yuri had left on the island, and took a picture of the post-it note on the fridge with the door code. He tossed Potya a treat before he left and listened to her chomping down on it before closing the door behind him.

Saint Petersburg winters were like ten times worse than Alamaty’s. He had no clue how Yuri could run around in just a denim jacket over his hoodie and not even wear gloves. His leather ones weren’t cutting it either. He pulled his scarf up over his nose, knowing that his breath was going to make his glasses fog up that way, and wishing that he had brought a hat with him as well.

It was almost weird being outside after three days. The sun was a thing, even if he was still literally freezing his balls off. Snow and salt crunched under his feet as he made his way to the train station. He kept his head hung low, spine tingling every time someone passed by. They didn’t know who he was, he had to remind himself; this wasn’t Almaty where he could be recognised by his _shoes_. No one cared about him here; he forced himself to take a deep breath and continue on.

He sat in a corner on the train, staring out the opposite window as graffitied tunnel walls zoomed past. The music blasting through his earbuds was loud enough to cover the rumble of the train but he still nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard snickering. Slowly, with building dread, he turned to two girls sitting on the bench opposite him. They were whispering behind their palms, laughing, blushing, and occasionally looking his way.

Ice dropped into Otabek’s stomach while his face heated enough to steam. He looked away, focusing on his hands in his lap. They were shaking, on their own and not from the rumbling of the train. He grit his teeth and clenched his palms. Just ignore them, he told himself. But, what if they were laughing at him for a reason? What if they had seen the picture? What if they had recognised him? Fuck. Dizzy, he was suddenly dizzy, the train's shaking going straight to his head. His ears were burning, too, at the thought that two random Russian girls had seen him naked. The whole world had probably seen him naked by now. He should have stayed inside; he didn’t need to draw any more attention to himself.

Stop being paranoid, he growled at himself. A few months ago, he would have just assumed that the girls were trying to flirt. He took deep breath, that’s probably all it was. _No one_ knew him here. He glanced back at them, and yeah he was being paranoid. He knew that look; they thought he was cute. He should have felt relief once he nodded at them and they turned back to each other blushing and giggling, but his stomach was still tight and his hands were still shaking.  _They_ hadn’t recognised him, but someone else might.

The bakery was a small red brick building with blue awnings and a large window. A bell jingled as he entered and it looked like it was run by a little, old lady and not somewhere he should have been going to get weed. Still, he was able to get a a few brownies, double chocolate, and a pack of ‘sugar’ cookies, and a bag of peanut-butter balls. He ignored the cashier when he commented on him looking tense. He knew he’d bought way too much, and Yuri probably wouldn’t eat any, but if he was going to be in Saint Petersburg for a while he might need it. He also threw in a bag of catnip, from the display of hand-made pet treats. Yuri might not get high with him, but the cat would. Yeah, and he needed to relax.

 

“Uhhh, what’s this?”

Otabek looked lazily over his shoulder as Yuri appeared in the doorway. He was laying on the couch, half hanging off to scratch Potya’s belly as she babbled at him, and kneaded the air.

“Yura!” he grinned, sitting up. “You’re home.”

“Yeah,” Yuri raised an eyebrow, crossing the living room to give him a short peck on the mouth. Otabek surged upwards, holding on to either side of his jaw before he could pull away. He let him deepen the kiss, brining a hand up to cup the back of his head. Otabek grinned into the kiss, he tasted like strawberry-flavoured protein mix.

“Feeling better?” Yuri asked, biting back a smile when they broke apart.

“Yeah.” He smoothed away a lock of hair that had escaped from Yuri’s ponytail.

Yuri nuzzled against Otabek palm. “Good.” Then Potya grumbled loudly, swiping at his calf before stretching out. “What did you do to my cat?” he asked, sitting down and bending over to rub her chest.

“Catnip. It’s wearing off, though.”

Yuri’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly. “Oh my god, did you at least get a video?”

Otabek chuckled, leaning against him to press his lips of the side of his neck.  “Yeah. She went crazy.” He picked up his phone from the coffee table but when he tried to unlock it everything went blurry. Oh, wait glasses. He picked those up as well, wrapping his free arm around Yuri’s shoulders as he pulled up the video.

“Beka?” Yuri asked uneasily, going tense under his arm. “Are you okay?”

He found the video of Potya he wanted. “Yeah, look-”

“Wait, are you high?”

“Yeah.” He tapped the play button. “Look-”

“Beka! Where did you even find it? You’ve been here three days-”

“You’re not looking.” He frowned, turning to face Yuri, watching as his eyes widened and his cheeks turned pink.

“Sorry, uh. Let’s see.”

Otabek readjusted himself against his boyfriend’s side, tucking his leg under him and rested his cheek against his shoulder. He held up his phone, tapping the play button again already snickering at what he knew was going to happen. Potya was mewling as she attacked the air, running around a twisting her spine as she jumped straight up and pounced on invisible prey. She’d zoomed around the living room, tumbling around the legs of the coffee table. Yuri was giggled softly and Otabek felt his chest tighten in warmth. The next video had her chewing the hem of his pants and rubbing herself all over a spot on the carpet. And the next, video she was stretched out over his laptop keyboard, eyes glued to the screen as music played from iTunes.

“She looks like she’s listening,” Yuri smirked.

He nodded. “I started to make her a playlist.”

Yuri snorted. “You idiot.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He patted his cheek before kissing it softly.

Otabek couldn’t help but smile as he set his phone back down and turned to face Yuri fully. Even after a day full of training he was beautiful. His nose and cheeks were still pink from the cold outside, but his skin was glowing, even if he felt a little grimy when Otabek had kissed him. Now that he’d unbuttoned his coat, he could see the sweat marks around his collar of his t-shirt and down the centre of his chest. Still, his stomach was fluttering.

“You were at the gym?” he asked, focusing on how Yuri’s lips were parted slightly, just showing the tiniest bit of white teeth.

“Yeah, Viktor made me run two miles on the treadmill as a _cool-down_. I swear he’s trying to kill me.”

Otabek chuckled. “He’s just trying to increase your stamina.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose, looking so cute right then that Otabek had no choice but to lean forward to kiss him again. He ducked away, though, slipping from the couch and pushing Otabek away with his palm.

“I’m going to shower. Sober you will kill me if I let you make out with me like this.”

Otabek scowled, folding his arms over his chest. “I would not. I love you too much.”

Yuri snorted, shaking his head as he grinned. “Yeah, I wouldn’t test that, though.”

The sound of water echoed out to the living room a few minutes later. Potya had been purring loudly cuddled up against his thigh as he stroked her back, but moved when Otabek turned to listen to the shower. Yuri’s bathroom was closest to the living room, right next to the guest room, with his room being the furthest down the hall. He could feel the high wearing off, but he didn’t need the THC to be insanely turned on by the image of Yuri showering. It was hard to breathe again, but this time in a good way, and with the shortest of pauses, rounded the couch to the bathroom door. He hoped it wasn’t locked.

It wasn’t and he mumbled a quick prayer of thanks to Allah as he cracked it open and slipped inside. Yuri’s bathroom was smaller than his back home in Almaty, but he had a large glass shower and a wide sink counter that was currently full of all his hair and facial products. He didn’t hear Otabek slip in and his eyes were closed as he rinsed out shampoo suds from his hair.

Something kicked Otabek telling him that this was a bad idea and he was definitely invading Yuri’s privacy, but he was here now and he couldn’t get himself to move. His mouth had also gone completely dry while heat pooled in his stomach and there suddenly wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. Yuri was gorgeous, standing with his back arched, face tilted up towards the spray. His hair hard darkened to a burnished gold, the water making it hang heavy down his back. Water ran in small streams down his body. Otabek knew he was self conscious about how pale he was, but looking at him now he was like a marble statue, carved to perfection. Otabek let his eyes trail down his sharp jawline, the curve of his throat and collarbones, to his delicately defined chest and down to an incredibly narrow waist, made even smaller by the long lines of his abs. Otabek had to remind himself to stop and breathe as Yuri shifted his weight from one leg to the other, muscles in his thighs shifting like molten steel. He started undressing, only catching himself when he ripped off his shirt, skewing his glasses and causing things to go out of focus.

Biting his lip in hesitation, he stopped with his thumb on his pants’ zipper. He didn’t think Yuri would be terribly mad at him, and they hadn’t seen each other since November anyway. He was in too deep already; his eyes dropping to Yuri’s ass, watching as water curved around the fullest part and dripped from the crease where it met his thigh. He’d make it up to him later if he did get mad. He shed his pants and underwear in less than a second, unashamed that he was already hard.

Yuri jumped when he opened the shower door, spinning around and nearly slipping on the wet tiles. Otabek wrapped an arm around his waist, palming his stomach and immediately kissing up the side of his neck.

“Beka!” Yuri admonished, but there was no heat behind it. “What… you couldn't wait?”

“No,” he hummed, sucking on the tendon that ran up behind his ear.

Yuri sighed, but leaned against him tilting his head to bare more of his neck. Otabek didn’t stop until a reddened patch appeared on his skin. His scent was still strongest there, even hidden under soap and water.

“So, you really do feel better,” Yuri mumbled, running his fingers through Otabek’s hair. “I was wondering when you were going to do this.” He should have been embarrassed by that, instead he chuckled, biting the shell of Yuri’s ear. “Is it just because you’re high?”

“It’s because you’re hot.”

Yuri giggled, slapping Otabek’s hand away when it trailed below his navel.

“You can tell me if you don’t want-”

Yuri huffed, leaning down to nip at the tip of his nose. “If I didn’t want it, I would have kicked you out already.”

“Fair.”

Yuri smiled, sealing their lips and pulling Otabek fully under the warm spray. They didn’t stay in the shower too long; Yuri was concerned about wasting water, but they had ended up in his room, not even bothering to towel off before Otabek had picked up him under his thighs and carried him down the hall.

The droplets that clung to his skin were enticing, Otabek wanted to lick each one away. He started on his neck, slotting himself between his spread thighs. Yuri ran his fingers through his hair, his mouth hanging open and chest heaving. Beautiful, even if he was a blond blur, he was beautiful. He exhaled across Yuri’s chest, watching as goose-bumps rose along his skin. Yuri shivered, his eyes fluttering shut and his let his head fall back against the bed, hair spreading around his head in golden tendrils. The sheets would be too wet to sleep on later. It would be worth it, though. He ran his hands up and down Yuri’s thighs, feeling water droplets run through his fingers.

His kissed down the centre of his chest, inhaling the sweet smell of his skin. He moved down his ribs, dipping his tongue into his navel and watching him shudder. He was so beautiful. Then he went lower, holding him down by sharp hip bones. Yuri usually shaved himself bare for no other reason than his preference, but his body hair was light and soft anyway. So, he kissed unhindered skin all the way down to the base of his cock. He was hard too, swollen and pink against his thigh. Otabek grinned, pressing a whisper of a kiss to the shaft.

“Beka!” Yuri shot upright, nearly dislodging Otabek from his body.

“Hmmm?” he looked up at him through his eyelashes. His eyes were wide and wild and his cheeks were pink.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh, going to suck you off?” The blush traveled down his to his neck. “You’ve never had a blow job before?”

Yuri narrowed his eyes, slapping him softly on the cheek. “What do you think, asshole?”

Oh. “First time for everything.”

Yuri began to squirm and Otabek pulled away, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“No, I…  you’re the one who needs to rest, let me, uh…” he paused not knowing how to continue.

It was the weed talking, Otabek would convince himself later. “Okay, you can ride me after.”

Yuri blinked like and owl. “What?”

“Ride me. You be on top.”

Yuri swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing with effort. “Um…”

Otabek kissed the crease between his hip and thigh. “I’ll show you how.”

With a long exhale Yuri flopped back onto his back, the mattress shaking with the impact. “Whatever, just don’t take too long.”

Otabek grinned. “That all depends on you.”

Still, Yuri’s stomach twitched when he gently took him in hand and kissed the tip. Omegas tended to run small in this area and Yuri wasn’t really an exception. He could take him into his mouth without a problem, flattening in tongue and pressing the ball of his piercing against the underside. Yuri’s gasp came from his stomach and echoed in the empty room. Otabek had to smile. 

“Fuck, Beka!” His moan sounded more like a scream, and Otabek hadn’t even started. 

When he began to bob his head, tongue sliding up and down his shaft, Yuri began to squirm and pant, back rising from the mattress. He was chanting ‘holy shit’ over and over in a rushed whisper, but Otabek wasn’t in the mind to let him rest. Holding Yuri’s hips still, he used his free hand to massage his balls. Otabek was sure that his legs spreading wider wasn’t a controlled reaction, but he’d seen how easily he could still drop into a split. He rolled his balls between his fingers for a bit longer, listening to him gasp for air, before pressing his thumb to his perineum. He was wet down there, and Otabek’s felt his own dick twitch as he wet his fingertips with the slick. 

“Beka,” Yuri moaned again, hands finding the back of his head and the threaded his fingers in the longer hairs. He half expected him to push, try to get him to take him into his throat, or to yank on his hair, but he just held him. It was probably a sign that he was getting close, and he’d known that Yuri wasn’t going to last long, but he hadn’t expected it to come this quickly. 

So, he pressed the pad of his index finger to the muscles around his asshole, then with a moment’s pause pushed in. The muscles gave way easily, as slick as they were, and Yuri’s breath hitched when Otabek pushed in up to his knuckle. He kept up a slow rhythm of bobbing his head, making sure to drag his piercing along Yuri’s shaft with each motion, while he massaged his inner walls, trying to ignore the way his cock was throbbing with need. Yuri was moaning, his voice catching in his throat more often than not as Otabek thrust his finger in and out of the silky, spasming heat. 

He was just about to add a second one, but as soon as his middle finger touched Yuri’s rim, he came right then, spilling into Otabek’s mouth and panting like he’d just finished a run. Otabek swallowed easily, sucking until he began wiggling in discomfort. Biologically, omegas didn’t make that much semen, definitely not as much as an alpha. He remembered learning in a biology class that male omegas couldn’t impregnate anyone; their balls were really just vestigial organs. Yuri had come in a single short spurt and then spasmed the rest of the way through. It was cute. But what really happened when he came was a rush of slick that warmed Otabek’s finger, and the muscles in his ass clamping down so tightly on his fingers, he felt his own dick twitch. They were both male, but so different here. 

“Holy shit.” Yuri gasped, his voice already sounded hoarse, and Otabek couldn’t wait for the rest of the night. “Is that what it feels like when you’re, uh, inside me?”

Otabek licked his lips and smirked, before crawling his way up Yuri’s body. “No, it’s better.”

Yuri’s eyes widened. “ _Better_?”

“Yeah,” he kissed the corner of his mouth.

He found his glasses before he lay down, his head propped against the headboard. He didn’t want to waste time with contacts, but he was not going to miss any of Yuri’s expressions this time. The way his face scrunched up as he slowly slid down his cock, then smoothed out when he was fully seated. Both their chest were heaving, almost keeping time together. Yuri took a few moments to let himself adjust, and he was to tight and wet that Otabek hand to hold onto the blankets to keep from thrusting up into him. Each breath through his nose was strained.

Eventually, Yuri cracked open his eyes, brilliant sea-green was glazed over in pleasure. A fire was building in his stomach, and he could feel his cock twitching and throbbing inside of Yuri, but his chest had gone all tight in an emotion so soft and consuming that if he wasn’t leaning against the headboard he would have been knocked over. He reached out, cupping the side of Yuri’s face, smoothing his thumb along his swollen bottom lip then up his cheekbone. Yuri held onto his wrist with both hands, leaning against his palm.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his heart quivering as Yuri blinked lazily down at him. “I love you so much.”

Yuri placed a gentle kiss to the centre of his palm, slowly rolling his hips. “I know.” He bit his bottom lip, a small furrow forming between his eyebrows as he moved. “And don’t you ever forget that I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh Otabek is even more fun to write than Yuri now that I've gotten the hang of it :)  
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> As always, feel free to talk to me on[Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/)  
> If you guys would like to see something specific happen in the WGAP universe please don't hesitate to ask! I'm always happy to take suggestions :)


	2. Chapter 2

Yuri’s fingers were smooth and cool as he traced an aimless pattern along Otabek’s cheek. Their legs were tangled under the fresh covers and Otabek had an arm hooked around Yuri’s waist, holding him tight against his chest. His eyelids were getting heavier by the second, Yuri’s touches were doing nothing to help. They had changed the sheets, and he’d dragged Yuri back to the shower to clean up. The lights had been turned off a while ago, and neither of them had bothered to redress before getting into bed. As the gentle scent of Yuri’s soap filled his nostrils, he felt calm even though his high had long since faded. 

“Do you want to do anything tomorrow?” Yuri asked softly, smoothing his thumb across his cheek.

“Tomorrow?” Otabek let his eyes fall shut, breathing in deeply.

“It’s my off-day.” 

Otabek hummed. Right, his off-day; he’d be home all day. They’d be home, together. He should have been happy, but his stomach quivered instead, something itching in his chest, buzzing all the way out to his skin. “Do  _ you _ want to do anything?” 

“Dunno, that’s why I asked you.” 

“I guess we’ll just see what happens then.” 

“Yeah,” Yuri trailed off, sounding as if he wanted to say more. But he didn’t, tucking himself under Otabek’s chin instead and pressing his cheek against his chest. 

Otabek kissed the top of his head, curling around him slightly as he slowly smoothed his palm up and down his bare back. He wasn’t really sure if he even wanted to do anything; the idea of going out seemed exhausting. Yuri could understand that, right; the bone-deep weariness that came after training. Or were his energy levels truly endless? 

They must have been with the way he was still able to dance around the apartment after a busy day, bouncing on the balls of his feet, even as he bent over the island, shoveling dinner into his mouth. He was so beautiful and he loved him so much, but he didn’t deserve him one bit. It made his chest hurt. 

Yuri was up and moving before Otabek even rolled over. He jolted awake when he heard the front door slam shut followed by a few cabinets and the rush of water from the faucet. He gropped for his glasses on the nightstand, nearly knocking over Yuri’s collection of dirty mugs. Forcing himself to sit up, he sighed, just wanting to go back to sleep, but guilt gnawed at his stomach and forced him to stand. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants, realising that they were Yuri’s when they were halfway up his thighs. He rolled his eyes at himself before stumbling over to his suitcase and pulling out the first pair of underwear he touched. 

“You’re awake?” Yuri said, watching him shuffle down the hallway. He was leaning against the island, one hip cocked outward, legs crossed at the ankle, and phone in hand. 

“You worked out?” Otabek eyed the black leggings and and the loose, teal tank top hanging from his shoulders. His ass looked amazing under the skin-tight fabric, but Otabek’s mind was submerged in fog. 

“Yeah, went to the fitness centre.” He pulled his hair down from the messy ponytail, and used his shirt to scrub at the sweat on his neck.

“What time did you wake up?” His spine was tingling; the day had just started but already he was useless. He leaned against the wall and took his glasses off to massage the bridge of his nose.

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “Um, like seven I think.” He’d been gone for over an hour. “Don’t say anything about it being my off-day.” 

“I wasn’t.” 

Yuri raised an eyebrow, straightening and stretching his arms over his head.  “Right. Anyway, what do you want for breakfast?” 

Otabek sighed. “Anything. I’m not that hungry.” 

Yuri paused for a few seconds, frowning as he pulled his lips into a thin line. “Beka…”

He ducked into the bathroom and shut the door before he could continue. There was complete silence on the other side of the door as Otabek blinked at his reflection. He clenched his jaw, annoyed with himself. Honestly, he didn’t have any right to treat Yuri like that; not when he had done absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe coming to Saint Petersburg hadn’t been a good idea after all. He didn’t feel any better, if these past few days had proved anything, and now he had to endure a new guilt every time Yuri looked at him. He felt gross, he looked it too; he hadn’t been to the gym in weeks, and he could tell that he was already starting to lose muscle. He needed to shave too, and cut his hair. 

But not now. 

He stepped into the shower, not even waiting for the water to heat up. 

“I made omelettes,” Yuri said as Otabek came out of the bathroom. He poked his head up over the back of the couch, green eyes wide and blinking slowly like a cat. “Yours is in the oven, I… uh, didn’t know you would take that long in the bathroom.”

“Thanks.” He dug his nails into the edge of his towel, as he headed down the hallway to the bedroom. 

“Uh, Beka?” 

He paused, looking back over his shoulder as Yuri curled his fingers over the wooden trim along the backrest. 

“Did you want to come to the gym? Should I have woken you up?” 

He shook his head. “It’s okay.” 

Yuri bit his lip. “Are you mad at me?” 

Otabek recoiled, something painful sinking into his stomach. “No. I…” he sighed. “I’m just… tired.” 

Yuri disappeared behind the couch and Otabek heard a soft poof as he landed on a cushion. “Okay.” 

Clenching his jaw, he went back to the bedroom, cursing himself in every language he knew. Yeah, he’d book a flight back to Almaty. He didn’t need to make Yuri more upset. Yet, as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the Air Kazakhstan website on his phone, he couldn’t get past the welcome page. Grinding his teeth together, he stood and dragged his feet over to his suitcase for a fresh pair of pants. He pulled out a pair of black joggers, creased from being folded so tightly for so long. Well, that’s what he got for not unpacking like he should have. He looked down at his clothes, clenching and unclenching his jaw; he’d been here for almost a week now. Yuri had told him he’d cleared out a few drawers from him, and made space in his closet. Sighing, he slipped into his pants, but paused when his knee spasmed as he bent it. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. Everything was just going to shit. 

Okay, there was nothing he could do about his knee right now, besides actually doing his stretches. He’d do them tonight. And he knew he would feel like a little less of a slob if he put his fucking clothes away. Grinding his teeth, he bent over brushing his knuckles against the floor to pull the other pants’ leg on without having to bend his knee too much. Only twenty-two and his body was already falling apart. He’d set an alarm to remind himself to do his stretches tonight. 

Now, unpacking. Groaning as his knee pulled again when he got to the floor, he began piling things onto the bed. Shirts in one pile, pants in another, then organised them by what he would wear at home and go out in. Putting them into Yuri’s dresser felt a bit intrusive, after he’d opened the wrong drawer full to the brim with haphazardly thrown and balled up underwear. 

“Yura,” he sighed, wondering what state of mess the other drawers would be in. His shook his head as his cheeks heated, yet he still picked up something small, black, and lacey. This boy. Running his thumb along a delicately stitched seam, he exhaled softly. Yuri was doing so much for him, and he’d done nothing in return. His mother would slap him if she found out how he’d acted that morning. He wanted to slap himself. The least he could do was go eat his omelette. 

Yuri had showered when he came back out, and was curled on the couch in a fluffy, purple bathrobe, damp hair pulled up into a messy bun. He’d fallen asleep on his phone, the darkened screen stared at him, as he breathed lightly through parted lips. He was curled around a throw pillow, one leg hitched up baring an alabaster thigh where his bathrobe had ridden up high. He breathed deeply through his nose, just taking a moment to look. 

Yuri was  _ perfect _ ; he should really try harder. Especially now, after he’d messed everything up so badly, after the long months of being so busy that he couldn’t even spend longer than a few minutes on a call with him. He’d come to Saint Petersburg to recover, and it wasn’t really working, so he needed to try harder. Yuri babbled softly in his sleep, curling tighter around his cushion, and causing his robe to hike up even higher. Nearly all of a pale ass cheek was on display, and Otabek was glad that it was just the two of them in the apartment. Even in his sleep Yuri’s reckless nature starred. O Allah, he loved him. A smile stretched Otabek’s lips and he stooped down, gently running a finger along Yuri’s cheek. Yuri startled awake, blinking before his mind woke up fully. 

“Hey,” Otabek said softly, smoothing a loose lock of hair from his face. 

Yuri sighed, letting his eyes fall shut briefly before he sat up and pulled his robe tight around himself. “Hey.” 

“You said breakfast was in the oven?” he asked, hooking a finger under Yuri’s chin, rubbing his thumb along the soft curve. 

Yuri leaned into his touch. “Uh, yeah. It’s probably cold by now, though.”

“That’s okay,” he placed a short, kiss to his lips before getting up and heading over to the kitchen. 

Potya magically appeared when he took the omelette out of the oven and poked at it with a fork. She purred hopefully, winding herself around his ankles. Making sure that Yuri wasn’t looking, he sliced a piece for her and pushed it off his plate. 

“I saw that,” Yuri mumbled anyway, get up and stretching his arms over his head.

“Sorry, but she’s so cute.” 

“I know. She’s also on her way to becoming overweight.” Otabek tilted his head. “Lilia. She gives her a treat every time she looks at her.”

Otabek chuckled, this time from deep within his chest. 

Yuri’s off day passed in a haze of Netflix, tea and a few of the cookies Otabek had gotten the day before. Yuri had clung to him, neither of them paying much attention to the television, kissing and nipping ever bit of his face within reach. Otabek let him do whatever he wanted, smiling as he listened to his non-stop chatter, before his high wore off and he raided the pantry for something full of starch and carbs. Only when he was halfway through his third bran muffin, two slices of buttered toast, and at least half a dozen spoonfuls of almond butter straight from the jar, he looked at Otabek and swore he’d kill him if he ever told Lilia that he broke his diet. Otabek had kissed him senseless right there in the kitchen. They only stopped when Otabek’s phone alarmed to remind him to do his stretches. 

The rest of the evening passed just as quickly and before he realised, Yuri was grumbling, throwing his ballet clothes into his gym bag and tearing his room apart to find his pointe shoes. Otabek watched him go, almost too scared to say anything and get hit in the face with a sneaker or something. He found them in his closet, where Otabek had suggested he look from the start. Yuri was still playfully fuming as he crawled into bed, over Otabek, and made sure to knee him in the stomach. 

Otabek was jostled awake the next morning when Yuri flipped on the overhead light. He was blinded even through his closed eyelids. Grumbling, he rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head.

“Oh shit, sorry; it was a reflex!” 

The light had gone back off, but Otabek didn’t come out from under the pillow. Once again Yuri was heading out, training, and being productive, while he’d spend another day doing nothing. His knee was still sore from the exercises last night. Grinding his teeth, he held his breath until he couldn’t anymore, took a breath then did it again. 

Yuri touched his back, smoothing his palm along his shoulder blade, and the mattress dipped when he sat down. “Hey, I’m leaving now.” 

He grumbled to acknowledge him, hands balling the sheets. The irritated shrug that shook Yuri’s hand away was instinct. He hadn’t even noticed his did it, his skin bristling in annoyance, until Yuri gave a short, forceful huff and he heard the bedroom door slam. 

 

“Viktor invited us to lunch,” Yuri announced as soon as the front door flew open and he dumped his gym bag in the foyer. He bent down to scratch Potya’s chin as she came up to greet him. “Let’s go.” 

Otabek looked up from his book. He’d managed to make a dent in it, finally able to concentrate for longer than a few minutes. Was it lunch-time already? He raised an eyebrow, looking from Yuri down to his pyjama pants. “Uh, I couldn’t have gotten a warning?”

Yuri tapped his foot impatiently, taking his hair down from the tight bun and shaking it out.  “No. Get moving.” 

“I have to shower-”

“You’ve been doing nothing for the entire morning, you’re still in your pyjamas for fuck’s sake.  _ How _ do you need to shower?”

Otabek ground his teeth together, the back of his neck started to itch, and his chest got heavy. “Are you serious?” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Come on, they’re waiting.” 

Otabek grumbled, standing from the couch and stretching out his legs. “I smell.”

“Just put on some cologne.”

Otabek stared at him and Yuri stuck out his tongue. 

The restaurant was a pretty casual one, located right across the street from one of the cities many canals. The wind was horrible, running along the water almost deafening and slammed the door shut behind them with a bang. Otabek sighed in relief, trying to rub warmth back into his arms as he looked around. There was an oceanic mural behind the bar, rustic, wooden tables, and the staff went around in jeans and polo shirts. Viktor waved them over, jumping up from his seat when he saw them causing Yuri to bristle and pull his hood to cover as much of his face as he could. 

“Glad you could make it, Otabek,” Yuuri said, standing as they came up to the table, he was also dressed in athletic wear, his track jacket halfway unzipped. “It’s good to see you.” 

He nodded, pulling out Yuri’s chair for him and ignoring his indignant glare. “Thank you for inviting us.” 

“We know Yurochka’s been keeping you locked away in Lilia’s apartment; some fresh air is nice once in a while, hmm?” Viktor smiled, sitting back down. 

Otabek blinked, glancing at Yuri as he rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“So, how long are you staying in Saint Petersburg?” Yuuri asked.

“I’m not too sure, yet.” His stomach tightened as he looked down at his lap. 

“Well, if you get too bored at Lilia’s, you’re always welcome to spend a few days with us. You haven’t been to our house yet, have you?”

“I’d rather die.” Yuri cut in, his chair scraping against the floor as he moved. 

“We weren’t asking you, Yurochka.” Viktor quipped. “You’re welcome any time, Otabek. We have lots of spare room.” 

“Uh, thank you, sir.” He reached for his water glass just for something to do. 

“Did you guys order yet?” Yuri asked, flipping open his menu. Otabek picked his up as well, suddenly not very hungry at all. 

It didn’t take long for their food to arrive; the restaurant wasn’t that full despite it being lunch hour. Otabek watched as Yuri dabbed the sauce off of his grilled salmon with a paper napkin. 

“I said no fucking sauce,” he grumbled. “I  _ asked _ if it was a creamy sauce, fuckers.”

Otabek scoffed softly, nudging Yuri’s knee with his. He nudged him back, roughly. 

“A little bit of fat won't kill you,” Viktor said. “I know Lilia’s been at you with a cane, but you could use a little bit of cushion on those bones.”

“Nobody asked your opinion, old fart.” 

Viktor huffed turning to his husband, pouting.

“Yuri,” Yuuri warned, sighing softly. “Don’t be rude.” 

“Then tell him to shove his opinion up his ass, ‘cause I didn’t ask for it.”

Viktor gasped. “Where did he learn this language? I know we didn’t raise him like this.”

“He must have gotten it from one of those shows,” Yuuri hummed, eyes twinkling mischievously. “We might have to cut back on his television time.”

Yuri growled. “Will the two of you  _ stop that. _ ”

Otabek bit his lip, looking down at his lap as he smirked. At least with them bantering like this, no one would notice that he didn’t have anything to say. 

“Otabek, can I speak with you for a minute?” Viktor asked as he stood up from the table, sliding his wallet back into his pocket. Viktor had insisted on paying for everyone, and Otabek had squirmed as he signed the bill. He couldn’t make this a habit, he’d have to repay him somehow. Watching someone else buy anything for him just didn’t sit right. His father would have said he should have tried harder to persuade Viktor. 

Yuri’s eyes widened and he looked like he was going to pounce, so Otabek stepped forward, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Of course.”

Yuri deflated, biting his lip as he looked between them. Yuuri came to the rescue, linking his arm around Yuri’s elbow and dragging him off. 

“Hey, I want to show you something.” He pulled out his phone, tilting the screen towards him and Otabek wasn’t sure if he actually had something to show him or if he could think incredibly fast on his feet. Still, Yuri gave him one last worried glance as he let Yuuri drag him away. 

OKay, should he have been more worried? He eyed Viktor’s smile, shoving his hands into his pockets and wishing he hadn’t eaten so much. His stomach was like a rock, expanding and crushing his lungs. 

“Yurochka is just being dramatic,” Viktor smiled, guiding him towards the exit. “This is nothing too serious.”

“Uh...”

“How’s your knee holding up?” 

Otabek blinked, nearly stumbling in surprise. “My knee?”

“You withdrew from the Grand Prix Final because of an injury, right?”

He inhaled deeply, adjusting his glasses to sit higher on his nose. “Yes, my coaches recommended that I rest for a while. It’s doing better now, but I still have to be careful with training.”

“Jumper’s knee?” Viktor held the door open for him, and Otabek hunched his shoulders as the cold hit him right in the face. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Viktor hissed. “Yes, be careful with that. You could end up needing surgery.”

He nodded; he knew that all too well. They walked in silence for a few minutes and Otabek curled over as much as he could when the wind blew right through his coat. He hated winter in Russia. And of course Viktor would have stopped right in front of a bench that overlooked the canal. Otabek wanted to ignore him and keep on going, but he placed an hand on his forearm stopping him in his tracks. Otabek tried to steal himself as best as he could. How could people live here? 

“So, Yurochka tells us that you haven’t been yourself lately.” Viktor began, leaning against the railing and looking down into the dark water below. 

Otabek swallowed and his gut clenched, cold seeping from the inside out now. “He did?” 

“He’s worried about you,” Viktor turned to face him, and Otabek stumbled back into the bench when he saw his expression. He wasn’t smiling, and Otabek felt himself start to sweat. “It’s understandable, of course; what happened to you was abhorrent. I’m glad that you sued. But,” he paused, and Otabek slowly sat down, the metal freezing his skin through his jeans. “I also want you to know my Yurochka is trying his hardest to help you.”

“I… I know that, sir.” 

Viktor huffed, sitting down next to him. “He cares about you a great deal, and I don’t want to see him get hurt.” He flicked a piece of snow from his coat. “Again.”

It was getting harder to breathe. “If I ever hurt him, I assure you it wasn’t intentional-”

“If?” Viktor raised an eyebrow and his smile was back, but it looked so very dangerous and colder than the air around him. Was Otabek going to die that afternoon? “I just want you to be aware,” Viktor continued after a moment. “You mean a lot to him. And when someone cares that much, it can turn into a lot of pain.”

Okay, that was a warning. He shivered as he thought back to how Yuri had looked when he asked him if he was mad at him the other day. “I never want to hurt him.” The ‘you have no idea how much I love him,’ stuck in his throat. The ‘you don’t know how much I hate myself for hurting him,’ had his chest seizing. 

He hummed. “Then let’s see it. I want you to treat my boy like the little prince he is.” 

“I’ll try my best, sir.” He really wanted to, O Allah, he wanted to, but when he woke up each morning feel like he was drowning, he didn’t know where to start. 

Viktor hummed again. “He’s trying to talk to you, and that in itself is rare. I suggest you listen to him.” 

Otabek stared at his lap, breath coming out in thick, white puffs. His face was numb but he wasn’t thinking about that anymore. Thoughts were chasing themselves around his mind, and he couldn’t decipher a single one of them. They sat in silence for a while longer before Viktor stood up. 

“I know you’re good for each other,” Viktor started, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet. “You’ll get through this, just try not to bite each other’s head off, okay?” 

Otabek swallowed, he hoped so.“Yes, sir.” 

“Oh, and about the nudes.” Otabek flinched, looking away. His stomach curled like a dead bug and his cheeks caught fire despite being numbing cold. “Don’t take it too hard.”

It took him a second for his brain to decipher the words. He looked up, frowning. “Uh-”

“Don’t take it too hard,” Viktor repeated, placing an hand on his shoulder. “You still have your career in front of you, you still have friends and family, and trust me, no one is going to hate you for it.”

Otabek swallowed. “But, I-”

“It’s embarrassing, yes. It makes me sick that some people will go so far. But don’t let it get to you.” 

“How?” he blurted before he could catch himself. 

Viktor tilted his head, something flashing in his eyes. The hand on his shoulder tightened. “Well, that’s just how life works. Bad things happen, but we get over them in time. It works out.”

“It worked out for you?” 

Viktor tilted his head, looking thoughtful for a while before shrugging. Otabek could have kicked himself. Yuri had told him not to tell Viktor he knew. “It did. We should head back now.” 

They walked in silence before Viktor gave a little sigh. “I was around nineteen at the time and I took some pictures, they were saved on the cloud, and before I knew it they were all over the internet.”

“You were hacked?” 

He nodded. “I thought Yakov was going to strangle me. But it was all over in a few  _ weeks _ , believe it or not. I thought I’d get at least a couple months of media coverage. I’m not an  _ actor _ or anything, but still.” He pretended to pout, or it was genuine, Otabek wasn’t sure. “Then everyone was onto the next scandal, and no one even talked about me anymore. And it wasn’t like having my nudes leaked stopped me from skating, from winning.” 

Otabek swallowed, watching his feet as they walked. Yeah, but how did he get over the fact that the entire world could take a look at his dick if they wanted? He’d heard from Yuri that Viktor didn’t have one modest bone in his body; the hot springs in Japan had been a nightmare. He wasn’t like him; private things should be kept private. This was the type of embarrassment that would never go away. 

“But, until that happens,” Viktor continued, seemingly as an afterthought. “Just own it.”

Otabek raised an eyebrow, lifting his eyes from his feet. “Own it?” 

Viktor’s smile was back, the trademarked one that Otabek now understood wasn’t all the way real. He tilted his head sideways, eyes closing as he grinned. “Mmmhmm. You’re attractive, I doubt a single person out there is disgusted by your pictures.” 

His stomach rolled. “I… that’s not-” He really didn’t need to think about people jacking off to his pictures. His ears were steaming too; thanks for that, Viktor. 

Viktor patted his shoulder. “Do you need a ride back to Lilia’s?” 

Otabek walked on a few steps before he realised that Viktor had stopped. He the door of a SUV, parked at a meter. Of course he’d drive a cherry red Alfa Romero Stelvio .  Yuuri was bundled in the passenger seat with the engine running. Otabek wouldn’t have picked the car for himself, but going by looks alone he knew why Viktor had chosen it. 

“Where’s Yuri?” he asked, peering into the back seat through the open door.

“He took the train back to the rink,” Yuuri answered, glancing up from his phone. “He said he wanted to get some practice done before Yakov came in to scream at him. His words, not mine.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know why disappointment spiked in his stomach. 

“So, Lilia’s?” Viktor asked. 

He shook his head. “I think I’ll take the train back.”

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asked. 

“Yeah, I need to… think about a few things.” Viktor hummed, as Otabek ducked away from the car. “Thanks for the offer, and thanks for lunch.” 

And he really did have a lot to think about. He felt like shit, but he didn’t want Yuri to feel like shit too. He let out a deep sigh before he pulled his scarf over the bottom half of his face. 

 

Otabek’s supply of cookies and brownies started to dwindle a few days later; he didn’t realise just how quickly he was going through them, until he picked up the air-tight container he’d been keeping them in and saw straight through the clear lid to the bottom. He’d need to go buy more soon, or - an annoyed voice from the back of his mind but in - or he could stop avoiding his feelings and talk them out like a human being. Yuri, Iska, Roza, and his mother had given him a hundred openings each, and he’d blown right past all of them. He sighed, shoving the container into the back of the fridge, and turned around to fill the kettle, avoiding Potya as she wound around his ankles, purring in hope of a treat or two. 

“You already had your dinner, Princess,” he told her, stooping down to pet her after he put the kettle on. His knee twinged as he bent it - a reminder that he’d been neglecting his physio stretches, again.

Yeah, sabotage your entire career, why don’t you, Otabek, he snapped at himself. He rolled his palm over his knee, letting Potya rub herself along his calves. 

“She really likes you,” Yuri mumbled, peering around the island, a spoon hanging out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Really?”

“It took her like two months to warm up to Lilia.”

“Maybe she thought Lilia was scary.” He ran his fingers along her spine. “She probably just likes me cause I give her catnip.”

Yuri scoffed, going back to his dinner. “Probably.”  

Groaning softly as he stood back up, he turned around to face Yuri. 

The past few days had been weird. He never thought that he’d see the day when Yuri Plisetsky would be cautious. But that’s the only way he could describe Yuri’s skittishness, the long silences before he spoke, even the hesitation to touch him. And it was all his fault. He wouldn’t want to be around himself either. He leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest and watching as Yuri scrolled through something on his phone, twirling his spoon around a carton of yogurt. 

They really needed to talk, or he wouldn’t be able to stay in Saint Petersburg for much longer. His stomach bubbled and just the thought made his chest ache. 

But how was Yuri supposed to help? He wasn’t a therapist, and his social awkwardness was baffling to watch sometimes. He was clumsy with his words, and when things got too emotional he couldn’t even string together a sentence. So, how was he supposed to just unload on him?  _ That _ wouldn’t be fair. 

So, instead of letting the mess in his mind seep out he asked. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Hmm?” Yuri couldn’t hide the confusion that blanketed his face. “Uh, sure.”

Otabek let out a harsh breath through his nose as the kettle began to bubble and boil.

They settled down on the couch after making himself a cup of tea. And surprisingly Yuri wasted no time climbing onto his lap and tucking himself under his chin. Otabek held him, the knot in his gut loosening a bit as Yuri turned on the television. He slowly wrapped his arm around him, resting his palm against his hip. 

They were silent, but it didn’t feel awkward, not as Yuri slowly relaxed against his chest, scrolling through the movie titles on Netflix. Otabek had thought that he would bombard him with questions as soon as he sat down, and it wasn’t often that he was silent. Silence meant something was wrong, and he obviously didn’t know what to say. Otabek didn’t know what to say either and he pulled out his phone, going through the messages that had gone unread since that morning. 

His mother had sent her usual good morning text and Bal has sent him something as well. He answered his mother before opening Bal’s message, hoping that nothing else had gone wrong at home.

Bal:   
Thought you might get a laugh out of this

He had sent a Twitter link and Otabek tapped on it, expecting a video clip or some dumb meme. It wasn’t. It was a picture posted by one of his fan accounts; he recognised the handle, even though he’d deactivated his Twitter account over a month ago. Otabek’s breath left him and his stomach retwisted itself into a knot so tight he felt like he’d been stabbed and a high-pitched ringing started in his ears and his vision started shaking.

It was a hastily taken photograph saved from Snapchat, but Otabek recognised the short black, bob cut and pouty lips. He was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and dusty work gloves, bending over a bin of old housing hardware, and even though he wasn’t looking at the camera Otabek could tell that he was having a hard time. 

It was weird, he thought, and kind of sad actually, that even though Assyl had lost the case it was  _ him _ who was crashing and burning. He felt like he was going to vomit, also explode with rage.

“Hey, are you okay?” Yuri asked softly.  Otabek nodded, swallowing. “What are you looking at?” 

He tilted his phone towards him, feeling the air around him throb. 

“Oh. Well, he fucking deserves it.” Yuri grumbled, pushing the phone back. His voice sounded like it was miles away. Otabek locked the phone, watching his hands like they weren’t even attached to him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

He shook his head, swallowing before he tried to speak. Nothing came out. 

“Beka?” 

His eyes were prickling and everything was shaking now. He gently pushed Yuri off his lap, stood up and raced to the bathroom. 

“Beka!” 

He was drowning, unable to catch his breath as he leaned over the sink. Clutching the edge of the counter with shaking hands, he tried to calm his thudding heart. 

He couldn’t. 

Fuck, he couldn’t even fix this. He took a shuddering breath, fixing his eyes on the sink drain. Everyone kept on telling him that Assyl had gotten off easy, after trying to ruin him like that. And yeah, he’d won the case, Assyl didn’t stand a chance against his lawyers. The whole of Almaty - of Kazakhstan - knew not to mess with an Altin. But still, if he could just go back and do things differently. 

“Beka?” Yuri asked hesitantly from the doorway. 

Otabek looked up, their eyes meeting in the mirror. Yuri had his arms wrapped around his stomach, his gaze was wide and unsure as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. 

Otabek swallowed, shaking his head and looking away. “I…” he began, but didn’t know how to finish. 

Yuri slipped into the bathroom, his footsteps soundless, and wedged himself between Otabek and the counter. Cupping Otabek’s face in his palms, he ran his thumbs along his cheekbones, eyes filling with concern. 

“We need to talk,” he said firmly. 

And they really did. He nodded. 

Yuri lead him to the bedroom, hands firm around his wrists. He guided him onto the bed, sitting behind him and wrapping both his arms and legs around him. Otabek leaned back against him, bring his hands up to clutch at his wrists. He was like a koala, a skinny, long-limbed koala, he thought, almost laughing. 

“I know you’re not okay,” Yuri began softly, his voice soft even though he was right next to his ear. 

“I’m supposed to be,” he answered. 

“I don’t give a fuck about what you’re  _ supposed _ to be. You’re not.” 

Otabek swallowed, letting his hands fall to his lap and curling his fingers into his palms. How did he even begin to explain this? 

He swallowed. “This isn’t your problem, Yura-”

Yuri’s entire body went rigid before he pulled back, practically shoving Otabek away. “Not my problem?” he hissed. “I fucking care about you, Altin. You’re my b-boyfriend, tell me how the fuck it’s not my problem when you’re miserable and hurt?”

He was close enough that Otabek could still feel the heat from his body and the back of his neck prickled, so he knew he was being glared at. “You don’t deserve my mess-”

“Oh my God! Stop telling me what I do and don’t deserve! You can’t make that choice for me!”

He clenched his jaw, lookin at him from over his shoulder. Yuri was kneeling, back straight for once, fists clenched, and frowning so deeply his entire forehead was wrinkled. Otabek sighed, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with the hem of his shirt. “I’m not, it’s just not fair for me to dump everything on you-”

“Well I want to help! I don’t like seeing you like this, Beka. I don’t like it when you’re sad. I  _ want _ to help you get better, but I need you to tell me what’s going on! You can’t just sit and act like everything is alright and when I ask… I’m not going to act like it’s alright when it isn’t, Beka!” His voice went high at the end and he dropped onto his heels, punching the mattress. 

The silence that followed was almost as loud as Yuri’s yelling. Otabek’s stomach contracted itself into the size of a golf ball. He was the worst human being in the world. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, Yuri’s voice echoing around his head. 

“ _ Sorry _ ?”

“Let’s talk.” He held his breath, as the ringing in his ears came back. The bed was swaying, but he could not back down now. 

Yuri slowly slid to the edge of the bed, sitting down next to him, close enough that Otabek’s thigh prickled from his heat. He stared at them, his own sweatpants-covered leg next to Yuri’s much thinner, bare one. The hem of his t-shirt was longer than the shorts he wore. Otabek swallowed, the rush of anger and hatred had evaporated, leaving him chewed out and scrambling to piece together how he felt. 

“I should be happy shouldn’t I?” he asked at length. “That’s what everyone thinks. I should be happy that he’s doing community service and he’s miserable and...” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“But?”

He swallowed, likcing his lips.

“Why?” Yuri continued. “He deserved every single thing that he got and more.” He grabbed his hand, squeezing gently. “Fuck, I still want to run him out of the country. Please don’t tell me you feel bad just because of one picture of him doing work.”

“I-”

“Beka, he’s a shit person!”

Just fucking say it. He pried open his locked jaw. “It’s all my fault!” His breath left him like a bullet and he was dizzy and tired. 

“What?”

“Everything that happened, it’s all my fault.”

“You didn’t tell him to post those pictures, how the fuck-”

“I’m the shitty person.”

Yuri grumbled, letting go of him and slipping onto the mat to kneel between his knees. “And just how did you come to that conclusion? How are  _ you _ the shitty person when he was a fucking gold digger right from the start, when  _ he _ stole my sunblock and nearly gave me like third degree burns, when he was so fucking rude to every one of our friends, and when he attacked me and nearly gouged out my eye. How are  _ you _ the shitty person here?”

Otabek wanted to rip his own skin off. “I shouldn’t have dated him.”

“Well no shit, Sherlock.”

He shook his head as his throat tightening and his lip started to tremble. “I shouldn’t have dated him to get over you.” Yuri was stunned to silence and Otabek couldn’t look at him. “I shouldn’t have dated anyone to get over you. I… we never stood a chance and I made him think that we did.”

Yuri’s nails dug into the muscles of his thighs. “You are un-fucking-believable. That’s what you’re worried about?” 

He swallowed, glaring at his lap and how Yuri’s pale hand was balling his sweatpants. Well that was part of the problem. He sighed, uncurling Yuri’s hands from his pants before he ripped them. “I’m not  _ worried _ , I just… I get where he’s coming from and…” Yuri snarled, but he continued. “I had a lot of time to think, going over everything with the lawyers.” He paused to clear his throat. “And imagine going into a relationship and realising that the person loves someone else and that they’re lying to you-”

“Yeah, so fucking what?” Yuri spat. “You hurt his  _ feelings _ . Do you know how much you made me cry and I didn’t do anything to ruin your entire life.”

Otabek blinked, eyes snapping to Yuri’s face. “I… what? I made you cry?” It wasn’t possible for his stomach to sink any lower.

Yuri’s eyes widened and he winced, biting his lip. “Yeah. A lot. I… when you started dating him… it hurt. Bad.”

“Yura-”

“But I didn’t turn fucking psychotic! He doesn’t deserve your sympathy!”

Otabek sighed, he knew that. He knew how much shit he’d gotten from his sponsors. He lost the  _ Children’s Programming Network _ , and once the contract’s end date passed, they would stop airing the commercial with him in it. Assyl was the reason why he’d gone off all social media, why he was paranoid, anxious, and possibly depressed. Yet, at the root of it, it was his fault. 

“I know,” he mumbled. 

All the fight slipped out of Yuri just like that. He sat back on his heels looking up at Otabek.

“So why did you date him?” 

The question had him at a loss for words. Because he needed to get over Yuri then, because thinking about not being with him hurt. Because his family - his mother - was pressuring him to date, and that the best advice Iska, Bal, or even Kerim and Hadiya could give was to move on and  find someone else. Hadiya had always tried her best to help him out, and she trusted Damira, who had literally no motive to set him up on purpose. He had no reason to not date Assyl. 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” 

Yuri snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah. I know.”

He reached up, cupping Otabek’s jaw again. “I don’t know what to tell you. But that bitch isn’t worth your time, and maybe it all sucked, but it wasn’t, like, because of you. Shitty things can happen to shitty people and that doesn’t make them any less shitty. I mean, look at my mom, when my dad died, she literally dumped me on my grandpa’s doorstep and took off.” 

Yuri had a way with words; he was as eloquent as a child learning how to speak. But Otabek understood the sentiment. He was right; Assyl was a terrible person, but it still didn’t make it easier to get through. 

“Fuck, what would Katsudon say?” Yuri grumbled, curling over to bump his forehead against Otabek’s thigh.

Otabek swallowed. Yeah, he should have kept it to himself, Yuri was heels over head with this. 

“You’re not a shitty person, Beka. And I know you’re feeling a lot right now, but you shouldn’t feel guilty when someone tried to ruin your life out of spite. And maybe if you did hurt Assyl, he did something much worse to you. Just… just forget about him, okay?” 

He appreciated it, but Yuri so obviously didn’t know what to say. But he was trying, and surprisingly, it made the knots in his stomach loosen. He  _ knew _ Yuri would have tried, but  _ seeing _ it made him feel so incredibly stupid for not talking to him sooner. He didn’t have the answer to all his problems, of course, no one would. He wasn’t even sure if there was even an answer. 

He cupped the back of Yuri’s head, threading his fingers in the gold silk. He was trying. 

Yuri raised his head after the silence started to eat at him. “Beka, it’s not your fault, okay?” 

He was trying. 

Otabek nodded, slipping to the mat as well wrapping his arms around Yuri’s waist and pulling him tight against his chest. Yuri flung his arms around his neck, immediately sealing their lips together. He felt lighter, somehow, like everything he’d let out had carried a bit of weight with it. As Yuri’s lips moved against him, and his dull nails massaged his scalp, a mild calm seeped into his chest.

“I know you don’t like talking much,” Yuri mumbled, pecking his lips softly before pulling away fully. “And I don’t know what to say to make you feel better. But I want to help you, Beka. I love you. And you’ve helped me through so much, and it’s my turn to help you. Okay?” He kissed him again, deeply, almost like he was trying to prove something. Otabek felt the fire behind it. “I want to help you,” he breathed, eyes shut and mouth still so close Otabek felt his lips move. “So let me.” 

“Okay,” he whispered, drawing him back into a kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just as confused as Otabek about this chapter.  
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> As always, feel free to talk to me on[Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/)  
> If you guys would like to see something specific happen in the WGAP universe please don't hesitate to ask! I'm always happy to take suggestions :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE - 14/09/18  
> I was going to write another chapter for this, but reading back through, I found that it wasn’t necessary for further character development. And I’m happy with this chapter as an end. 
> 
> Chapter warnings:  
> \- Sexual content  
> \- Implied recreational drug use

Yuri swore loudly, slamming the fridge shut with his hip.

Otabek looked up from the newspaper from his position at the kitchen island. “What is it?” 

“I need to go grocery shopping,” he grumbled, looking so incredibly put off that Otabek had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“That’s not something terrible, Yura.”

Yuri glared. “Says the rich, fucking prince who has maids to do the shopping for him.” 

Otabek narrowed his eyes playfully. “I didn’t have a maid in America. Or Canada for that matter.” Yuri didn’t need to know that he’d gotten his groceries delivered once a week and the boarding schools he’d gone to in both countries had provided all meals and snacks. “And doesn’t Lilia do all the shopping and cooking?” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I  _ help _ .” 

Otabek chuckled again, standing from his stool and rounding the island to wrap his arms around Yuri’s waist. “What do you need to get?” 

Yuri huffed, leaning back against him. “Everything.” 

He chuckled again, pressing his lips to the side of Yuri’s neck. “Make a list, I’ll go change.” 

Yuri tensed ever so slightly in his hold. “Uh, you’re coming?

“Yeah? Do you not want me to?” He licked his lips, nervousness spiking in his chest. 

“No!” Yuri waved his arms, turning around to face Otabek. “It’s just that… well. Uh, you haven’t really left the apartment since you got here.”

Otabek’s stomach gurgled. “Not true, I went to get lunch with Yuuri and Viktor. And I left to get my edibles.”

Yuri groaned, stooping slightly to bump their foreheads together. “Fine, go get ready.” 

The grocery store wasn’t too far away from the apartment, but Otabek could see why Yuri was complaining. The walk back would be torture with their hands full of heavy groceries. Something told him that Lilia bought things as was needed to avoid having to do one big trip, but knowing Yuri, he’d let everything run out before realising. Judging by the length of the list on his phone, Otabek knew that’s exactly what had happened. Otabek leaned against the shopping cart handle pushing it along as Yuri went from shelf to shelf, examining brands and prices. He could ignore the prickling at the back of his neck whenever they passed a person, and he could force the anxiety away if he thought someone was staring at him when Yuri complained loudly about prices.

“What the hell is in this rice? Gold? Does it cure cancer? My fucking God, there’s no way I’m paying that much for something I’m gonna shit out in a day.” He angrily shoved one of the bags back onto the shelf. 

A small smile stretched Otabek's lips and he buried his face into his scarf.This whole situation was just so domestic, apart for Yuri’s cursing. They’d been living together for nearly two weeks now, but grocery shopping was something different. He took a picture of Yuri deliberating between two new packs of rice, grinning as he sent it to his mom. 

Me:   
Yuri takes longer to decide on things than you. 

He could already imagine her smiling, and shoving his dad’s shoulder to show him the picture. He’d rarely gone shopping with her, but the few times he did he’d vowed never to do it again. For groceries, clothes, or anything else. Never. She answered just as he was about to slip his phone back into his pocket. 

Anam:   
Are you grocery shopping? 

Me:   
Yeah

Anam:   
Tell Yuri that’s a nice colour on him. 

He glanced up at Yuri’s dark red jacket. He looked good in any colour.

Anam:   
I’m happy you finally went outside. See it’s not so bad. 

He rolled his eyes.

Me:   
Only because we needed food 

Anam:   
Oi  _ zhyndy _

Otabek scoffed, she hadn’t made fun of him like that in a while. He sent back a smiley face. 

Anam:   
Call me when you get home. 

“What are you laughing at?” Yuri asked, dropping a bag of rice into the cart. He raised an eyebrow as Otabek looked up from his phone.

“Nothing. I was just talking to my mom. She wants to call us tonight.”

Yuri blinked. “Uh, okay. I mean, we don’t have anything else to do. Unless you wanted to…”

He shrugged. “A night in is fine.”

“Okay.” He turned around, picking up a few packages of dried chickpeas. 

It was hard to tell if he was disappointed or not. Otabek’s stomach and chest tightened again and he kept his eyes fixed on the cart basket as it quickly filled.

With the shopping done, it was one of the moments where Otabek wished that he wasn’t so in love with Yuri; their cart was packed with bags and the walk back to Lilia’s apartment was starting to seem impossible. He pushed the cart to the edge of the sidewalk, wondering why in heaven Yuri hadn’t gotten his driver’s license yet, or why Lilia didn’t have a car. Yuri grinned guiltily, looking from all the bags to Otabek’s clearly unamused expression.

“I didn’t think you actually meant we were out of  _ everything _ ,” he grumbled, fingers already burning out of cold. 

“Well, not everything everything. Unless you wanted to eat canned tuna, broccoli, and oatmeal for the next few days. And we still had a few rolls of toilet paper-”

“Remind me why I love you again?” 

Yuri blushed hard, even though his cheeks were already red.

Otabek was panting by the time Yuri unlocked the door to the apartment; his shoulders felt like they were going to pop, and his fingers were burning so badly he was positive that he had frostbite. 

“Never again, Yuri Plisetsky,” he groaned, letting the bags fall from his hands to the foyer floor.

“Yeah, like that was so much fun for me too,” Yuri grumbled, doing the same. “Fuck, I think I dislocated my little finger.” He shook out his hands and Otabek winced at how red they were. “I can’t even feel my face.” 

Otabek scoffed, stepping over a few bags and grabbing Yuri’s hands squeezing them gently to warm them up, they did feel like ice. 

“Your hands are cold too!” Yuri whined, but let Otabek rub his fingers. They were long and slender, with pointed, sharp joints and uneven nails from when he chewed on them. 

“Hey, next time tell me if we’re out of something or if you’re too busy to go to the store.”

Yuri bit his lip, looking off to the side. “Yeah. I just, uh. I didn’t know if you wanted to.” 

Otabek sighed softly, his stomach twisting. “Well, I want to  _ now _ , okay?”

“Yeah - shit!” He tore his hands away from Otabek, looking wildly around the apartment as if he’d just remembered something. “Potya!” 

The front door was still open, and he dashed back out, limbs and hair flying wildly. Potya was all the way at the other end of the hallway, and paused when she heard Yuri coming up behind her. 

“Get back here!” he called after her, but she just blinked and continued on. “Potya!” 

By the time they had managed to capture Potya, corning her against the door that lead to the stairwell, Otabek was sweating under his coat. He eyed the cat slumped in Yuri’s arms and purring softly as they walked back to the apartment. 

They didn’t end up doing anything much for the rest of that day, and Otabek hadn’t felt such physical exhaustion in a while, it was almost nostalgic. After they had showered and changed, they bundled themselves up in one of Yuri’s fluffy, leopard-print blankets and silently watched Netflix until the sun began to set, sending bright, orange light through the long, arched windows and Lilia’s gauzy curtains. It was only when it was dark enough that they had to turn on a light, Yuri got up and began bumbling around the kitchen. He had finally changed from his bathrobe to a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, and Otabek watched him flit around making dinner and ignored him when he asked if he needed help with anything. 

“Don’t tell Lilia, I let you eat on the couch,” he mumbled, handing Otabek a plate of baked chicken, sautéed potatoes and green beans, and a separate bowl of salad with walnuts, cranberries, and chunks of avocado. 

Otabek grinned mumbling his  _ du’a  _ before cutting off a large chunk of chicken. Yuri tucked his feet under himself, smiling around his fork. 

“Don’t let my mom know you can cook this good.” Yuri raised an eyebrow as his cheeks turned pink. “She won’t let you leave Almaty the next time you visit.”  To be honest, she’d probably start talking about weddings. 

As he took another bite of his chicken, Potya jumped up onto the couch, staring at him like she was about to pounce. Otabek bit his lip when she let out a soft mewl, and placed her front paws on his knee. 

“Beka, don’t you dare.” Yuri kicked his thigh. 

“I wasn’t,” he grumbled. “She doesn’t deserve anything after that escape attempt today.” 

Yuri chuckled, pushing Potya away with his foot. She batted at his toes. “Hey, didn’t you say something about calling your mom earlier?”

“Uh, yeah.” He twirled a piece of spinach around his fork. 

“I’ll get my laptop.” He was already setting his plate down on the coffee table. 

“Let’s finish eating first.”

“O...Kay.” He sat back down, and Otabek tried to ignore the unblinking stare he was sending his way. 

They silently watched the television until they had finished eating, and Otabek forced himself up from the couch and took Yuri’s plate and bowl to the sink to wash before he could say anything. 

“You know there’s a dishwasher, right?” 

“Hush.” 

His soft giggle made a small smile stretch across Otabek’s mouth. 

Otabek’s parents were sitting down on the settee in their bedroom when they answered his FaceTime call. Yuri curled up against his side as his mother started chatting right away. Otabek was mostly silent as she told them about her week, then asked Yuri how his Grandpa was doing and how training was going. Otabek let his eyes fall shut as he listened to them talk. His mother’s voice was almost soothing as she rambled and his dad’s soft hums were familiar and comforting. But Yuri’s voice had stiff muscles unwinding and he slowly slid down against the back of the couch until his nose was pressed into his hair. He could honestly fall asleep like this. 

“Lilia isn’t in Saint Petersburg?” Otabek’s dad asked hesitantly, and Otabek shot upright the calmness chased from his chest by cold panic. His dad was frowning at the camera their gazes locking for a second before Otabek looked away.

Yuri shook his head. “She’s in France for two months. One of her friends asked her to help with a production, uh, ballet show in Canes.”

“So it’s just the two of you in the apartment?” 

Otabek bit his lip; he knew where this was going. “It’s alright, dad.”

Yuri blinked, turning to look at Oabek. “Uh yeah,” he said, tugging at a lock of hair above his ear. “We’re in a pretty good part of town; it’s safe and you need a code to get into the building and a separate key for the apartment so, we’ll be fine.”

Otabek shut his eyes briefly, pulling his lips together tightly to keep himself from laughing. His Dad was at a loss for words for a second, before he scoffed through his nose. “Oh, okay, I… I guess I shouldn't worry then.”

He had explained to his parents a while ago that Yuri was asexual, before they or any one else from the family made some inappropriate joke around him. It still seemed to slip their mind, especially now that he and Yuri were dating. And he already had one sex scandal hanging over his head; he couldn’t blame them for being wary. Still, Yuri was an actual angel. Otabek wrapped his arm around Yuri’s waist, pulling him firmly against his side. Yuri looked up at him in confusion. 

“Well, I hope Beka hasn’t caused you too much trouble,” his mom began. “Of all my children none of them have been this stubborn.” 

Yuri giggled softly as Otabek rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, he hasn’t been any trouble at all.” He patted his shoulder for emphasis. “I wish he’d be more trouble; all he does it sit around and read all day.”

His mother eyes flashed in concern. “It’s okay, Ma, I was just tired.” 

His dad set a hand over his mother’s forearm. “Let him be,  _ Suiktim _ . We both know how busy he was these past months.” 

He could tell she was bristling slightly, but then drew in a long wary breath. “You’ve been sleeping better?” 

“Yes, Ma.” 

“Good, I can tell. Eating better too?”

“Yes, Ma, Yura makes sure of it.”

Yuri squirmed against his side, a light blush blooming on his cheeks. 

His father slowly shook his head. “You can send him back to us, Yura, when you get tired of him. And he’s a grown man, don’t worry about cooking for him.”

“ _ Äke _ ,” Otabek mumbled, glancing down at Yuri to make sure he knew his father was only teasing. 

“Um, yeah,” he breathed, biting his bottom lip. 

“Your dad called me Yura,” he said as soon as they had ended the call. 

“Hmm?” Otabek stretched his arms over his head. 

“He called me Yura. You’re the only person that calls me that.”

Otabek tilted his head to the side, wrapping his arms around Yuri’s waist and pulled him onto his lap. “Does it bother you?”

Yuri was silent, thinking. “No,” he said after a minute. “It’s just that everyone usually calls me Yurochka.”

“He probably got it from me. I can ask him to-”

“No, it’s fine.”

Otabek squeezed his waist as he leaned back enough to rest his head against his shoulder. 

 

The lightness from the weekend didn’t last long. Otabek woke up when Yuri slid out of bed and promptly tripped over something he’d left lying around the night before. 

“You okay?” he mumbled, as something gnawed at his stomach and his chest was all tight and cold. 

“Yeah, sorry. Go back to sleep.” 

He fell asleep within seconds, despite the tiny voice in his head that had come out of nowhere saying that he was worthless. The voice didn’t go away when he woke up later to the eerily quiet apartment and bright sunlight pouring through the open curtains in the living room. He should be doing something useful, not just hanging around and being a slob. Yuri was probably annoyed with him too, thought he was lazy and disgusting. And suddenly it was hard to breathe. He sat down on the edge of the couch with his head in his hands and a tightly clenched jaw. He was just wasting everyone’s time here, literally asking Yuri take time out of his already packed schedule to take care of him like he was a fucking baby. The thoughts spiralled like a cyclone and he ground his teeth together until his jaw started to hurt and his chest was constricting so tightly he had to gasp to breathe.

Fuck. 

If it wasn’t for Potya winding herself around his calves and purring he would have stayed like that for hours. Just like Yuri, his cat demanded attention uncaring of anything else that was going on. She jumped onto his lap and headbutted his stomach, purring louder when he stroked her spine. He chuckled wetly, sniffling and wiping his face with the back of his hand. 

The next few days went in a similar fashion. He would wake up feeling as if the word was literally falling down on him and would lie in bed falling in and out of sleep until Potya woke him up for a snack. Then he’d force himself to do his exercises, and go to the gym downstairs before showering and making a small breakfast. He could ignore the cold, sinking, swirling feeling in his stomach when he worked his muscles to the point of exhaustion. And napping with Potya purring on his chest turned out to be oddly comforting. He’d had to come up with a plan to bring her back to Almaty when the time came. 

Yuri was supposed to have an off-day on Wednesday, but Otabek caught him packing his gym bag on Tuesday night. He looked up with wide eyes like a child caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Uh, there’s a guest instructor from New York at the Vaganova tomorrow, and Lilia wants me to meet him. It’s like a three-day training camp.”

“But it starts on your off-day.”

“Yeah. I don’t mind.”

Otabek got down on the floor next to him and handed him one of the rolled up towels he had yet to pack. “You do need to rest some time too, you know that.” 

“I know, but when next am I going to get the chance to do a ballet workshop with a world famous danseur? I already talked to Yakov about it and he said I only had to come in on Thursday for an hour.”

“You are insane.”

Yuri grinned. “Pass me my shoes.”

Otabek shook his head picking up one of the tan ballet slippers. He sighed, wrapping the ribbons neatly around the sole. “Don’t these hurt your feet?” He picked up the other side, trying to rub off a grey smudge on the corner of the platform with his thumb. He hadn’t expected there to be a wooden block inside when he had first picked up one of Yuri’s shoes. He had found it amusing at how small they looked when he wasn’t wearing them, but, like skates, they were supposed to fit snugly. His stomach gurgled, he should have been doing more, himself. Yeah, an hour in the gym and that was it, while Yuri was running around doing training  _ and _ ballet. He was pathetic.

Yuri rolled his eyes, grabbing the shoe from him. “No more than skates.”

Otabek shook his head, still unable to wrap his mind around how ballet dancers could go up on their  _ toes _ and not break anything. Yuri zipped up his gym bag then crawled over to sit in the space between Otabek’s crossed legs. 

“Sorry for ditching you tomorrow, though,” he mumbled, turning around so he could wrap his legs around his waist. 

“It’s okay,” Otabek said, forcing a smile and pressing his lips to the tip of Yuri’s nose. “Potya will keep me company.” He’d just end up doing what he did every other fucking day anyway.

 

Otabek jolted awake when his phone rang, dislodging Potya from his chest with an angry grumble. He groped around blindly getting even more tangled in the sheets before he found his phone wedged halfway under the pillow. He answered without trying to make out the blurry screen.

“ _ Iya _ ?”

“Beka? Did I wake you up?” 

Yuri. He dragged a hand down his face, and blinked hard. 

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, um, I forgot my ballet things at home, could you, uh-”

“Yeah of course, I’ll bring them for you. You had everything packed already, right?”

“Yeah, it’s the purple Nike bag in my room.” 

Yeah, he’d nearly tripped over one of the straps when he had gotten up to go to the bathroom. “Okay, so meet you at the rink?” 

“Yeah.”

He took a deep breath after he hung up, and stretched his arms over his head. He should probably get going now; it only took fifteen minutes to get to the rink, but he definitely needed to shower before he left the apartment. 

The smell of the ice hit Otabek full in the face when he pushed open the doors. He hadn’t been inside a rink in a while and the sound of blades gliding across the ice almost felt like home. Almost. His knee twinged, and he hoisted Yuri’s bag higher up on his shoulder, tearing his gaze from the ice to anywhere else. He saw Yakov and Viktor leaning against the boards on the opposite side of the ice and took a deep breath before heading over to them. 

“Otabek!” Viktor spied him instantly, waving like an excited child. “What brings you here? Did you come to skate? I thought your knee was still giving you trouble.”

He nodded to Yakov. “Just came to drop off Yuri’s ballet things.” He pointed at the purple bag. 

“That boy,” Yakov grumbled, looking back onto the ice. “Mila,” he yelled suddenly. “Try that at any competition and you’ll be disqualified. Do it  _ again properly _ !” Mila’s groan was loud as was Yuri’s cackling. “And don’t you laugh, Yurochka! You have twenty more minutes and I haven’t seen your triple toe-loop yet!”

Yakov’s methods were so different than both Tair and Gennadiy, who never shouted and offered encouraging smiles and pointers at the end of each practice. But then, looking at the chaos that Yakov’s students often caused, yelling was probably the only effective method. Yakov stepped onto the ice grumbling. “Mila! What did I just tell you?”

Otabek watched him fume to the centre of the rink, grabbing both Mila and Yuri by their arm. He hid a small smile in his scarf, but there was nothing to be done with the angry bubbling in his stomach or the knife in his gut. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him, was always watching him, ready to laugh or whisper harshly behind their hand. He clenched his jaw, trying to get his breathing back to normal. The rink was mostly empty, and he’d gotten most, if not all, of the pictures taken down anyway. It shouldn’t be still circulating. It couldn’t be, right?

“Hi, Otabek.” 

He nearly jumped when Yuuri came up behind him. “Hi.”

Viktor pulled Yuuri against his side. “Feeling better, my love?” he asked softly. Otabek blinked, shouldn’t he have been on the ice with Yuri and Mila? Well, he did look a little pale and his eyes were slightly pink. 

“Yeah,” he said simply, leaning into Viktor’s hold. 

Viktor nodded, placing a soft kiss to his temple. “You ready to go home?” Yuuri nodded. “I just have to drop this off at the office then we can get going.” He held up a thick paper folder, and bounded off.

“Is everything alright?” Otabek asked hesitantly as Viktor’s footsteps faded away. 

Yuuri offered him a small smile and flapped his hand before leaning against the boards. “Mmmhmm. Just a little anxiety, we’re supposed to be leaving from Four Continents next week. Guess I’m feeling a little stressed.”

Otabek hummed. He’d withdrew from that competition as well; it didn’t make sense to try, he was so out of practice and his knee still needed a lot of work. Something gnawed at his stomach. “Everyone knows you’ll do well,” he offered. 

Yuuri sighed through his nose. “Yeah, that’s how it always is.” He blinked, was that the wrong thing to say? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I… well I’ve been thinking about retiring after next season, and I just want everything to go well. I mean, I’m probably just pressuring myself more than necessary, but I don’t want to embarrass Viktor or anyone else - sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, it’s fine. I get it.”

There was a beat of silence before Yuuri turned to him. “What about you? How have you been doing?”

“Hmm?”

“You just look a little tense.”

“I do?” he sighed heavily. Of course he did, his spine was itching fiercely and his stomach was like a science experiment gone wrong. He glanced at Yuuri whose huge, brown eyes were filled with a sort of intense, watery concern. “I guess… well, some days are better than others.” He joined him leaning against the boards, and glared at the ice below. 

Yuuri hummed. “Yuri told me about your shopping trip last weekend.”

He scoffed, slowly shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have been surprised, honestly; he leaves everything to the last minute. It was a good workout I guess.”

Katsudon chuckled. “See there, you didn’t look so sad just now.”

“Huh?”

“When you talked about Yuri. I think you are getting better, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

He shrugged. “I mean I don’t feel as… bad when I’m doing stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Like with Yuri, or working out, or playing with Potya. Like if I don’t give myself time to think.”

Yuuri clasped him on the shoulder, squeezing gently. “Yeah, your mind can be unforgiving. But at least the world outside is so big and full of so many people and things that you don’t have to stay closed up by yourself. I know advice is the last thing you want to hear right now, but get out and do something.” 

Yuuri wasn’t the first person to tell him that. He sighed, maybe he should actually try it.

 

His first trip was to get more edibles. Then he spent the rest of the day in an old record store he would have passed by any other day. The owner was an excitable old man in ripped jeans and had given Otabek an in depth history of the band _ Mashina Vremeni _ . He had ended up buying three records before he realised that he didn’t have anyway of listening to them at Lilia’s. Still as he examined the cardboard sleeves on the train ride home, he forgot to look for people staring and laughing at him. 

The next day he found out that Potya could play fetch. Well she didn’t exactly bring her toy back, but she sauntered back in his general direction so it was easy to grab and throw again. His phone storage was nearly full of videos of her poucing after her toys. Yuri loved them even more and had posted a couple of them to his Instagram. He tried to entice Potya to play fetch with him, but she remained uninterested, only blinking at Yuri when he threw one of her toys across the living room. Yuri’s pout was adorable, and Otabek kissed him until he was smiling. 

He picked up a weird routine of exploring different parts of the neighbourhood. After Yuri left he’d go to the gym, shower, eat breakfast, then pick a random train and get off at whichever stop came first. And at first his skin had crawled whenever someone so much as glanced his way. He had no idea what they were thinking, or if they had recognised him from the pictures, but then the moment was gone within seconds and the person looked away and he could breathe a breath of relief. 

Someone did approach him on the train, but it was a little boy who was dragging his mother behind him and excitedly asked for an autograph. While his mother explained that he had started skating, and was going to his first novice competition next season. Otabek had grinned despite himself, and signed a piece of paper the boy’s mother had provided. And when they got off at their stop Otabek shook his head and laughed at himself. It was funny; he had thought everyone hated him now. He had thought the mother would have been disgusted with him. Maybe they didn’t know about the scandal. And then it hit him, really hit him. Maybe they  _ didn’t know _ . 

Something in his chest loosened, and he sat down, staring out of the window in a daze. They didn’t know or they didn’t care. Huh. He scoffed, still trying to process what had just happened. 

 

“Hey,” Yuri called, running up to the sidewalk, and jumping over a clump of brown snow. He took a minute to catch his breath before giving Otabek a peck on the mouth. “How did you even find this place?” he mumbled as Otabek held the door open for him. A bell jiggled above them, and the aroma from the kitchen hit them full in the face.

Otabek shrugged, reaching out to tuck a wild lock of hair behind Yuri’s ear. It wasn’t in his customary pony tail, and a bit tangled from running. “I went exploring yesterday. I had the  _ grecheskiy salat  _ and it tasted like my Grandma’s, so yeah.” 

Yuri grinned. “I can’t believe there’s a Kazakh restaurant so close to the rink and I didn’t even know.” He breathed in deeply. “It smells like your kitchen.” Otabek nudged him with his shoulder, before winding his arm around his waist. Yuri leaned against him as they chose one of the five tables, scattered around the tiny room. “I’m coming here every day for lunch.”

“Lilia won’t approve.”

He rolled his eyes when Otabek pulled out his chair for him, but hung his coat over the back before sitting down. “Lilia doesn’t approve of a lot of things, but if this tastes like your mom’s cooking, I’m going to have to change my meal plan.” 

Otabek chuckled, sitting down himself and grabbing Yuri’s had to entwine their fingers. “I still don’t know where you put it all.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I mean, the only thing big on you is your ass-”

Yuri’s gasp was almost dangerous, and he pulled his hand away. “My ass is not  _ big _ !” 

“Okay, I’ll give you two a few more minutes to settle in.” The waiter had appeared out of nowhere and left just as quickly. 

Yuri’s face turned beet red. “I hate you.”

 

Things were going too smoothly, Otabek realised when he woke up from what must have been the worst nightmare he had in years. He shot upright with a gasp, fligning the sheets off of him as his mind slowly made sense of what was happening. His skin was itching and he felt sweat beading on his back and neck. His heart was racing and stomach rolling and his breath came out in short pants. 

“Beka?” Yuri asked sleepily from beside him. 

“Shhh,” he swallowed, smoothing Yuri’s hair from his forehead with a shaking hand. “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

“What happened?”

“It was just a nightmare.” 

“Nightmare?” he mumbled, rolling onto his lap, and hugging his waist. “It’s okay, Beka, just a dumb dream.” 

Otabek felt his heart slowly going back to normal as he stroked Yuri’s hair. It was just a dumb dream, but he couldn’t help but panic.

He was back at home in Almaty and everything had seemed normal at first, until he’d gone into his closet to find all his clothes missing, then the ones he had on had disappeared as well. His mother had walked in on him, and had scrambled to hide, sweating and heart racing while his stomach drained to his toes. Laughing at him his mother then said that he didn’t need clothes anyway since everyone already knew what he looked like naked and to hurry up because he was late for practice. Everything had devolved from there, he was suddenly in a competition in only his skates, spotlights shining on him and the crowd jeering and laughing at him, giant hands and menacing grins. Cameras flashed like volcanoes. Even the commentators were laughing, as they described his dick. There were news articles featuring his dick, and he ran just trying to hide, heart racing, but everyone kept on finding him and laughing, taking pictures and calling him names. He had woken up when the first call from one of his sponsors came in and Gennadiy’s voice had echoed in his head that his career was over. 

Otabek rubbed his chest, feeling the residual panic swim in his lungs. It was just a dumb dream. He lay back down, staring up at the ceiling as his throat constricted. Yuri mumbled something already half asleep and shuffled so that he was using Otabek’s chest as a pillow, winding his arms around his ribs, and burying his nose into his armpit. He swallowed shakily, resting his arm over Yuri’s waist. He wasn’t sure if he could fall back asleep, or if he even wanted to. 

The dream came back the next night, and he didn’t wake up until noon. He skipped the gym that day and only ended up showering half an hour before Yuri came home. He hated this, he was finally making some progress and starting to feel like himself then everything had come crashing down again. Fuming, he grabbed two of his brownies, impatiently waiting for his mind to cloud over and, when Yuri came home, fucked him into the mattress. 

Days passed, and he couldn’t shake the cold bubbling in his stomach. He ran through another batch of edibles and on Yuri’s off-day didn’t let him up from the bed if it wasn’t absolutely necessary and he was completely spent. It probably would have gone on like this for a while, until Yuri dragged him out of bed at the crack of dawn one morning and told him to go shower.

“We’re having a watch party at Yakov’s. You’re coming, I’m not giving you a choice.” 

“Watch party?”

“Four Continents. We’re watching Katsudon.”

Otabek blinked and could have kicked himself. How had he let that much time pass? He swore. “It’s been a week.”

“Hmmm?”

“Nothing.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes for a split second before shoving him to the bathroom. 

Otabek hadn’t been up this early in ages, and he yawned over the mug of black tea Yakov had offered him. He was sandwiched on the couch between Yuri and Georgi, waiting for one of Georgi’s students to hook up their computer to the television. He stared down into his mug, at the spiraling steam and the still cream-coloured liquid, while excited voices bounced all around him. Leo and JJ were competing too, and he should have been more excited, but he couldn’t stop the itching at the back of his neck. It definitely hadn’t been his imagination when one of Georgi’s students had stared at him a bit too long, eyes darting down to the front of his pants before she quickly looked away. He had found his spot on the couch quickly after that, as Yuri bumbled around, bringing him tea, a plate of tiny, assorted pastries, and cuddled up next to him, under a crocheted blanket. 

He let Yuri tuck himself under his chin once the stream had finally started, but as the commentary began he felt short of breath. He should have been there competing, if he hadn’t fucked it all up. Clenching his fist around the edge of the blanket and staring at the screen, he tried to keep his breathing calm and even. Not even Yuri seemed to notice yet how tense he was. He could already hear Tair and Gennadiy berating him about sportsmanship, how even though he hadn’t been able to compete he was supposed to support his rinkmates and fellow athletes. But still, he should have been there. His skin was itching, moving like ants and he didn’t even see the first two skaters even though he’d been staring right at the screen. 

“Ugh, change the channel,” Yuri grumbled as soon as the camera switched to reporter holding out a microphone to JJ. “No one wants to listen to interviews.”

Mila hushed him. “Honestly what’s your problem with JJ?” 

“Nothing, I just don’t want to hear him speak so early in the morning.” 

Georgi chuckled from beside him. “I think you’re just upset that he’s in first place.”

“Katsudon will take it back during the free skate. Watch it.” 

“Hush!” 

Yuri grumbled but didn’t say anything else and Otabek pressed his lips to the top of his head, turning his focus back to the television. 

“It was a good competition, challenging but fun,” JJ was saying, grinning at the camera. “We got so many new skaters this year, and it’s great to see old friends.” Otabek’s stomach clenched. “Anything I would have changed? Well, there’s one skater in particular I think more than a few of us missed. I know his routines this year would have given me a run for my money.” He shrugged, then grinned directly at the camera. “But there’s next year, so Otabek, man, you better take care of that knee.”

Otabek’s eyebrows shot upwards, and he blinked at the television. 

Yuri scoffed loudly, “Asshole.” But Otabek could tell he was joking.

“Yeah, your routines this season were amazing,” Mila hummed, tapping at her phone.

“Were,” he sighed. 

“Yes,” Yakov agreed from his recliner in the corner. “All that back and forth love-drama between you and Yurochka. The judges ate it up.”

Otabek’s cheeks heated and Yuri flipped Yakov off as Georgi’s students snickered amongst themselves from the floor. 

“Hey, look.” Mila hopped up from the love seat and stretched over Yuri to show him her phone. “I knew I saw it during Rustan’s performance.” 

Otabek adjusted his glasses as he took her phone. He’d helped Rustan With his routine and to see him land the double Salchow, triple toe-loop combination had his chest tightening in pride for a few seconds. But Mila’s phone screen showed a blown up picture of the crowd where someone was holding up a Kazakhstan flag and right next to it a poster with his name. 

“Huh?” He zoomed in, frowning. 

“Your fans are pretty cool, you know that right?”

Yuri scoffed again. “Are you kidding me? They’re worse than mine! We can’t go anywhere in Almaty without him being stopped for an autograph. It’s like he’s a fucking movie star.” 

Mila laughed loudly. “Well, your fans still don’t go to competitions and hold up getter better soon signs.”

“They-”

“There’s more, swipe.”

There was. The getter better soon sign just like she had said; actually, he glanced to the username, this was one of his larger fan accounts. Huh, Mila followed them? 

“I’m surprised I still have fans,” he grumbled handing her back her phone.

Mila blinked owlishly, glancing to Yuri then to Georgi. “Um… well yeah. I think you actually got more. You deactivated your Insta so… but the fan accounts have been on fire. It’s mainly been reposts for a while, but you’ve been getting all sorts of fan art and gifs. See.” She held out her phone again.

Yuri elbowed him, grinning like a demon, but he didn’t feel it. His heart was beating loud in his ears, and he felt it in his fingertips. So, they didn’t all hate him. He took the phone scrolling through all the posts he had missed. There were a lot of gifs from his old routines, a few reposts of him and Yuri from Yuri’s account, and, surprisingly enough, a few posts begging him to come back. His breath left him in a slow wheeze. They didn’t all hate him. They wanted him back, on social media and the ice. When he handed Mila back her phone his stomach was tightening again, but there wasn’t any of that cold, painful dread. He felt warm. 

Yuri was yawning widely on their walk back to Lilia’s apartment. Yakov had given him the day off, instructing him to go back to bed, but Otabek knew that wasn’t happening. They linked their arms together as they walked, boots crunching snow and breaths coming out in white puffs.

“It’s like that on Twitter too, you know,” Yuri grumbled after a few minutes of silence. 

“Huh?”

“Everyone wants you back.”

“Oh-”

“They do! I mean none of that was your fault, and they know that Assyl-asshole was 100 percent wrong. I mean, like some of them went after him, it was hilarious actually, and he deactivated his Twitter too.” He stomped on a clump of ice, before kicking away one of the larger pieces that broke off. “I mean my fans are rabid, but yours are like a pack of lions. But… I know it’s been hard for you, but no one hates you for it. On the bright side you got more famous, I guess a few people just joined cause you’re hot, but like any publicity is good publicity, right. Or… uh. Even during the court shit, like everyone was on your side and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such positivity from a fan base like that before. It was like… I don’t know like you're some kind of superhero. And-”

“Yura,”

“Hmm?” 

“Thanks.”

“Huh?” 

“Thanks.” He took a deep breath, stopping short and grabbing Yuri’s hand so he didn’t go on ahead. “I know i’ve been a pile of shit since I got here-”

“No-”

“But thanks for trying. And making me come watch the competition. I… I think I needed that.”

Yuri bit his lip, and he looked off to the side, embarrassed. “What the asshole did to you was pure shit, but he got the worst of it in the end.” Otabek scoffed softly, pulling Yuri against his chest. “I mean, all of your fans still love you, I love you. And once your knee is better, you can get right back-”

He couldn’t wait for him to finish his sentence; he kissed him. Yuri fell into him, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck and kissing him back like he’d been waiting for it for a year. Despite the biting cold, Otabek still felt warm. He was sure that he was floating, he couldn’t feel the pavement. For once he didn’t pull away when Yuri bumped his glasses crooked and he didn’t care that they were blocking the pavement. A warm, fuzzy feeling was slowly growing in his chest, and he wasn’t dreading the rest of the day. 

“Hey,” he whispered against the corner of Yuri’s mouth when they broke apart. “I wanna take you out.”

“Huh?”

“On a date.” 

“Huh?” 

“I’ve been here how long now, and I haven’t once taken you to dinner. I’m surprised you haven’t broken up with me.”

Yuri blinked slowly before he started to scowl. “Trust me, there are plenty other reasons for me to break up with you. Dinner is not one of them.” 

He chuckled loudly, pecking him on the lips. “On your next off-day. We’re going out.”

“Why not now?”

“Because, you mister, need to go to bed.” 

Yuri punched him.

 

Otabek froze in the doorway of Yuri’s room, watching as he struggled with the zipper on the back of his dress. Otabek held his breath, gazing up and down his boyfriend’s body. He had his hair up, for once, in a fancy braided bun at the nape of his neck, and had taken the time to do his makeup. His eyes were lined in black and brown and his lips were blood red. His dress was a dark red with a sort of lace overlay, but there was no back and it clung to his hips and ass like a second skin, just long enough to cover both cheeks. 

“Help,” Yuri whined, looking at him from over his shoulder, “The zipper is stuck.”

Otabek swallowed, stepping closer and pinching the two ends of the fabric at Yuri’s lower back together. A few threads were caught in the zipper, but as soon as he picked them out it zipped up smoothly. He let his hands linger at the bare skin on his back, before running them around to the front of his hips. 

“Yura, you look amazing,” he breathed. 

“You say that every time,” he rolled his eyes, turning around to face Otabek and ran his palms up and down his biceps. 

“Well it’s true every time.”

“I’m not sure about the dress. Is it too much? Should I wear pants and a tie or something?”

“No. I like this.” He trailed his fingers up Yuri’s side, up his chest to the collar of the dress then to his jawline. 

“ _ You’re _ wearing a suit.”

“And?” He huffed. It wasn’t a suit, just slacks and a jacket that he hadn’t even gotten from the same store. Otabek grinned, smoothing this side of his finger along the underside of his jaw. “You’re beautiful, Yuri Plisetsky, don’t you dare change.”

It took Yuri only a few more minutes to finish getting ready. He slipped on a pair of black heels and stopped to look at himself in the mirror and touch up his lipstick. But before they left, Yuri pushed him into a corner, holding his phone high up in the air for a selfie. Otabek scoffed, but wrapped his arm around Yuri’s waist and looked up at the camera. He didn’t expect Yuri to bend slightly and press his lips to his cheek as he snapped the picture.

“It’s not bad,” he muttered tilting the screen so Otabek could see. Yuri was gorgeous in any picture he took. He looked like an actual supermodel. “I’m posting it. Uh, should I tag you?”

Otabek hesitated. He still hadn’t signed back into Instagram. But, he took a deep breath and reached for his phone in his pocket. “Yeah.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m signing back in right now.”

Yuri smiled and by the time Otabek’s newsfeed had refreshed and his 200 plus notifications loaded, Yuri’s picture was right on the top. He double tapped it, then reached up to peck Yuri on the cheek. Viktor was right, he wasn’t going to let Assyl win this one. He was going out on a date with his boyfriend, incredibly hot boyfriend, and he would be proud to let everyone know that he was going to have a good time. 

He had called a taxi to take them to the restaurant. A luxury taxi this time, Yuri was going to get pampered tonight. He had chosen a restaurant that was known for catering to celebrities, and normally a reservation needed to be made at least two weeks in advance but he’d gotten a few strings pulled. Yuri hung onto his arm, trying and failing not to look too starstruck as Otabek lead him up a marble staircase and through a set of glass doors. In the back of his mind he heard a few cameras go off, but he had long since told himself that he wasn’t going to pay any attention to that. Focus on what’s happening now, not what could happen, he reminded himself. 

“Are you serious?” Yuri mumbled, as Otabek gave his name to the host. “Beka, do you have any idea how much this place costs?” 

“Yeah, that’s why I brought you here.” 

Yuri was stunned to silence for a moment before he grinned, shaking his head. 

Otabek hid a grin behind his palm as Yuri happily chatted about anything that crossed his mind. His eyes eyes lit up when he talked and Otabek could have kicked himself for not bringing him out sooner. Every time Yuri got excited enough to turn into an absolute chatterbox, Otabek's cheeks hurt from smiling. He took pictures of his food and asked the waiter if he could take a couple of them sitting together. He posted them all in one album that Otabek liked instantly and had Iska and Bal texting him. But he ignored them, physically unable to take his eyes off of Yuri for longer than a few minutes. He almost didn’t see when the waiter placed the bill by his elbow. 

Yuri tucked himself under his chin on the ride home, one hand idly playing with his the buttons on his shirt, as he scrolled through his phone. 

“How long do you think it’ll take until we make the gossip blogs?” he asked, as one of his fingers slid beneath Otabek’s shirt.

“Not too long with you looking like this.”

Yuri swatted his chest. Otabek chuckled, leaning down to capture his lips. 

It was pretty late when they got home, so he didn’t expect Yuri to crowd him against the door as soon as it shut behind them and kiss him fiercely enough that their teeth knocked together. Yuri pulled back, biting his lip as his eyes sparkled mischievously, and before Otabek could register anything a thigh was between his legs, pressing firmly against his crotch.

“Yura,” he groaned, chasing his mouth. 

Yuri smiled allowing him a short peck. “Thanks for tonight. I know you’re still not feeling all that great, but it was really fun.” 

Otabek wound his arms around Yuri’s waist, placing his palms flat against his bare back. “Yeah, we should do that more often. More… dates.”

Yuri blushed. “Yeah.” 

He swooped back in for a kiss, bringing a hand up to cup the back of Yuri’s head. His thigh pressed firmer against his crotch and he pulled back with a hiss.

“You don’t have to,” he grumbled, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I took you out to dinner because I wanted to, not because I wanted you to repay me with sex.”

Yuri paused. “You don’t want to?”

Otabek stroked his cheek. “Of course I want to, but don’t feel pressured-”

“Okay, I appreciate you always making sure, but I mean, like sometimes I _want_ _to_. You don’t always have to be so careful.” 

“You sure?”

Yuri huffed. “Yes.” 

In a breath, Otabek had Yuri pinned against the wall, kissing and biting the side of his neck. Yuri had his arms wrapped around his neck, threading his fingers through his hair; Otabek could feel his chest rising and falling in short pants, his scent already getting stronger, musky, aroused.  He grazed his teeth along the hollow behind Yuri’s ear, he could practically taste his scent there.

“Do you have any idea how much willpower it took not to rip that dress off of you all night?” Otabek growled, sliding his palm up Yuri’s thigh and under the hem of his dress. 

Yuri giggled breathlessly, reaching behind him to undo the single button at the nape of his neck and the short zipper on his lower back. He peeled the sleeves down his arms, never breaking eye-contact then let  the dress, fall down his legs. Otabek’s chest spasmed as he forgot how to breathe. Yuri stood in a small, black thong that was lace and mostly see through. He was blushing down to his chest and curled an arm around his stomach. Otabek’s mouth went dry and he blinked, tearing his eyes away from Yuri’s body took look at his face. 

“I…” Yuri began softly, reaching up to tug at his hair, but finding no stray pieces. “I thought that this was where we’d end up tonight, so I-”

Otabek kissed him deeply, unbuttoning his shirt and ripping his jacket off. 

“Uh, bedroom?” Yuri gasped.

Otabek had to pinch himself to pull away. “Yeah.” 

Yuri led him to the bedroom, kicking off his shoes, and Otabek could help but swat at his ass a few times. Yuri looked back with a playfully narrowed eyes. He shed his shirt on the way, and undid his belt and zipper, a fire already alighting in his stomach. Yuri picked out a few pins from his hair and it cascaded down his back like a golden waterfall. Otabek was already having trouble breathing, but when Yuri crawled backwards to the centre of his bed and motioned him to follow with a single finger, he gave up on breathing all together. He slipped out of his pants and underwear before leaping onto the bed and pushing Yuri onto his back. Nibbling at his lip he found the thin lace of his thong and pulled it down his thighs and wasted no time in pressing a finger to his slick coated entrance. Yuri gasped, spreading his legs wide and pulled Otabek into  needy kiss all teeth, tongue, and moans. 

The room was filled with their harsh breathing within seconds. Yuri threw his head back, forgetting about the kiss as Otabek pushed a single finger into him. His fingertips were tiny points of pressure against Otabek’s back, and he was chewing his lip, making it redder than the lipstick he had worn that night. 

“Use your nails,” Otabek mumbled, when he started to knead his back.

“Huh?”

“I like it when you scratch.”

“O-okay.” 

Yuri’s nails were short and blunt, but when he crooked the finger inside of him, massaging  _ the _ spot deep within him, he moaned, clutching him as tight as he could. The stinging pressure from his nails was enough to make his dick twitch, and a wave of heat crashed downwards. He sunk his teeth into Yuri’s neck, feeling his throat work out silent moans of pleasure. Otabek’s chest tightened, everything down to his dick tightened at the sight of Yuri writing underneath him. Squirming in pleasure, lips swollen and red, makeup smudged, and hair a mess. He looked up at him a tender smile gracing his lips as he bought a hand up to caress Otabek’s cheek. 

“I l-love you,” he panted, in between soft moans. 

Otabek’s lungs cracked, and he was suddenly so breathless and hot. He bent his neck losing himself instantly in the kiss. 

“Ready, Yuriyim?” he breathed against Yuri’s mouth a few moments after adding a second finger, positive that he was going to die if he didn’t get inside of him. 

Yuri mumbled, spreading his legs wider and tilting his hips upwards. Otabek licked his lips, feeling slick leak out from between his fingers. He withdrew his hand, trailing a line of slick along his perineum and the centre of his balls, then up his shaft. Yuri cursed, back arching.

“Yura-”

“Fuck, Otabek, just get inside me already!” 

Otabek chuckled, kissing the side of his jaw as he took himself in hand and gave a few pumps. Yuri’s breathing was rushed and shallow and he smelled so delicious, his scent overpowering  and heavy with want. Otabek bit down on the side of his neck, licking and sucking as he lined himself up and pushed in.The tight heat was almost a relief surrounding him, and he and Yuri let out twin sighs then chuckled when they realised. Yuri kissed all over his face until he found his mouth. 

They kissed lazily, then hungrily. Yuri dragged his nails down Otabek’s spine, while Otabek held his hip with one hand and massaged the side of his throat with the other. Little moans escaped from Yuri’s mouth each time Otabek slid in. He ate them all up, feeling them settle in his stomach, fueling the pool of fire. Yuri was so tight and hot, both inside and out, he was burning up in pleasure. Trying to keep his rhythm slow and somewhat even, he kissed down the side of Yuri’s neck again breathing him in and letting his eyes shut just so he could block out everything that wasn’t him. He didn’t need anything but his smell, his high, breathy moans, his long, slender body, and the tight, silky heat of his ass. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

“Beka,” Yuri panted, settling his hands at the small of his back. “I want…” he swallowed, groaning again as Otabek thrust in. He slowed down, just so Yuri could think.

“What do you want?” 

He swallowed again. “I want you to k-knot me.” 

Okay, that cleared his head a bit. He propped himself up on his elbows, staring down at Yuri and searching his face for anything. Yuri bit his lip, gulping down lungfuls of air. 

“What?” 

His eyes were glassy, pupils blown. “Knot me.” 

Otabek licked his lips. He was going to knot, he could already feel the tightness at the base of his dick, but

“Please,” Yuri whined. “I’m on birth control and suppressants.”

Otabek’s dick actually twitched, and fuck he wanted to knot him so badly. To feel his tightness and his body convulse as he came, to be connected in that way. His chest started to heave, breaths giving way to shallow pants, and just from the the thought, the anticipation, he felt his dick start to swell. But, there was an annoying nagging voice at the back of his mind, and something like a cold butterknife dragging down his spine. 

He bent to kiss him, tenderly and slowly. Yuri melted further beneath him, swirling the tip of his tongue around his piercing. He knew Yuri knew he loved when he did that, but he pulled away, and rested their foreheads together. 

“We need to talk about this more,  _ Mahabbatym _ ,” he whispered against the shell of Yuri’s ear. 

Yuri blinked blearily, tiny lines forming between his eyebrows. “But-”

“There’s no need to rush this.” He slowly pulled out, until only the head of his cock was left inside. Yuri seemed to deflate. He pushed back in, slowly, but went as deep as he could. “I love you, and I want to make sure that we both know what we’re doing this time, okay?” 

Yuri hummed, wrapping his legs loosely around Otabek’s hips. “Okay.” His eyes fluttered shut as Otabek picked up a slow but confident pace. “I guess. But, I’m... I’m telling you now, I’m ready.”

Otabek kissed him again and didn’t stop until he felt his knot forming in earnest. He knew Yuiri could feel it too, from the way he widened his legs even more and how ragged his gasps were. Otabek ground his teeth together as he pulled out, hips stuttering and seeking warmth. He wanted to just give in an knot him right there, but instead he took himself in hand and pressed against Yuri’s stomach, hurriedly searching for his dick. He thrust three fingers back into him spreading them wide and massaging his walls as he pumped both their dicks together. 

Yuri sounded like he was crying when he came, his entire body tensing and convulsing. Otabek followed not long afterwards painting both their stomachs and chest with his release. 

The thing about knotting was that it felt as though his very lifeforce was escaping from his dick. Everything narrowed down to the pinpoint of pleasure, he couldn’t see, or hear, trapped inside his own mind until it was over. His breath was shaky when he finally came down and he couldn't even move a finger and colourful spots swam in his vision. Talking was another challenge. 

“Yura?” he rasped. “You okay?” 

Yuri was shaking just as much, but his eyes were bright and clear, if not a little tired. “Yeah,” he panted, smoothing his fingers over Otabek’s jaw. “Yeah, I love you.” 

Otabek grinned, trying and failing to catch his breath, while the rest of his body was already falling into sleep. 

“I, uh, I’ll clean us up.” Yuri disappeared for a short while, and Otabek jolted when he felt a warm cloth wiping away the mess on his stomach. He cracked open an eye to see Yuri carefully wiping him down. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, when Yuri came back to bed, snuggling against his chest and kissing down the centre of it. At least his heart rate had slowed down somewhat. “Sorry I turn into such a useless blob after.”

Yuri scoffed. “You’re always a useless blob. But I don’t mind. It’s a biology thing, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

They fell asleep holding each other, and when they woke the next morning, Otabek didn’t feel like shit. He looked up at Yuri, grinning as he yawned and stretched. Then pulled him back down for a slow, deep kiss, happily ignoring their morning breath, and not letting him go until he absolutely had to. He watched Yuri get ready for training with a smile on his face and it had been so long since he felt this way. He still wasn’t 100 percent sure, but he definitely felt better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Yuri's dress ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ac/9a/3c/ac9a3c5299c3b5d6745359eb87bd4ff8.jpg)   
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>  As always, feel free to talk to me on[Tumblr](https://ashthe7th.tumblr.com/)  
> If you guys would like to see something specific happen in the WGAP universe please don't hesitate to ask! I'm always happy to take suggestions :)


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